Your erotic stories

It was the summer of my eighteenth year. As everybody knows, summer in New York City is hot and sticky and miserable, and this summer was especially hot. My name is Andrea and I live with my family in a small apartment in a neighborhood called Morningside Heights. It's not too far from the Columbia University campus, but it might as well be a thousand miles. The people on my street drive cabs, work in food services or low-end retail. Or they're just plain dirtbags.

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I got home late one night from my usual cardio session at the gym. Working out had got me sweaty and horny, so I raced home, glancing to be sure the DVD was still on the passenger seat, something I had grabbed from the gay section at the porn shop I worked at, before leaving for the day.

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The bride worried that she would shatter. She felt as fragile as the glass bottles of oils and perfumes set out for her bath--a bath she didn't welcome, and one she knew would never make her feel clean. In the water, a gilded lion gushed rose-scented water from his mouth. Julia had always thought the fountain beautified the room, but now the lion seemed like he was just another predator waiting to pounce.

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His fingers stroked her clit maddeningly. "You like the idea of that, don't you?" he whispered into her ear. "You like the idea of getting fucked by my friends, of being our whore." She moaned, her fingers gripping his arm tightly. Kitsune's panties were looped around one ankle. She'd just come home from St. Mary's Catholic School, where she was a senior, and she was still in her school uniform.

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I was living this apartment building. It was a pretty nice complex. A lot of lawyers were living in it for some reason. I guess you could say that it was a luxury apartment complex. My mom was also a lawyer (no surprise). She was always out of the house and was basically with me in the evening for supper. She was divorced for 3 years and had no time to see anyone else.

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Not even fourteen hours into the weekend and Drew knew it was a mistake to come to Vegas. He didn't even gamble, really, for Christ's sakes, and it wasn't like he had the extra padding in his checking account these days. The whole place felt like he could look but not touch. Swarovski, Tiffany, Cartier and the rest of the stores that only foreigners seemed to shop in, the High Roller tables cordoned off with velvet ropes, the cocktail waitresses with too high hemlines and too low necklines.

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Travelling for work is not as much fun as it used to be. All those airports, those sleepless journeys, being up to speed on most movies and Discovery Channel documentaries is no substitute for a regular life. Constantly hopping from hotel to hotel, albeit with grander and grander rooms then suites as the work and career progressed. Learning to pack for a week in a walk-on bag and still look smart every day - an unwished for skill but essential nonetheless.

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I was thirty when it happened. I fell in love. She was perfect. She was everything I could have ever wanted in a mate; beautiful, smart, funny. She wasn't bitter though she did have quite a temper. She was determined and goal oriented. She had a cute face and a banging body, though she didn't realize she had either. That was probably because she was young. She was very young, and she was my student. I guess I need to start at the beginning. My name is Kenneth Ellerson. I teach higher math, and coach JV and Varsity Girls basketball at a coastal Georgia high school.

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The year was 1984. South Africa wasn't a happy place. I was in the army for my two years of national service. My name is Ben, and I was gay and out, unusually, as my lover and I were activists. Well, I was an activist-wannabe, since I should really have conscientiously objected to National Service, as others had, and endured the prison sentence, but I guess that I didn't have quite enough of a problem with the white "regime" to risk that extreme form of conscience.

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"Paging Miss Summers. Miss Summers, please proceed to the General Office." The bleep of the PA system sent a spark of excitement – or was it relief? – through me. It was the third day of the open house for Junior Colleges, and this was the first time that I'd been beeped to meet with a student or parent.

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