Your erotic stories

"I need a favor, Jakx." The deep raspy voice startled Jakx. He hadn't expected his best friend, Dykstra, to be this deep into the cave. No one came this deep unless there was a freeze. "Anything, my friend." Even though he preferred to be left alone, Jakx would never refuse Dykstra. Not because he felt obligated, but because the other man extended him the same respect.

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Kiara tried to focus on what her professor was saying, but she was finding it increasingly difficult, as thoughts of last night's events kept on replaying in her mind. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more she noticed the dampness in the panties she was wearing. She finally gave up on trying to concentrate on the professor, and rested her pen down on her notes.

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This is an addendum to Pretty Mouth Ch. 07, due to error on my part or Literotica's the ending was lost. This will conclude Ch. 07 and include a full story for the series. Thanks for all the wonderful emails praising my writing. I write fairly well but I think it is our twisted minds that make you enjoy my stories so much. For those who don't like my stories, that is fine too but you need to use more constructive criticism rather than boring vulgarities. I'll gladly try to incorporate all suggestions good and bad into my stories.

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I hear a car horn. I am out of the house in a moment. The front door slams behind as I take the front steps two at a time. When I reach the car, I open the passenger side and slide into the seat. "Hello, birthday boy!" she says. The soft orange glow of the streetlight doesn't illuminate much, but I see she is wearing a plaid mini skirt and a white shirt. She has neglected the top three buttons.

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It had been a small gathering in Jinx's studio apartment. We had been sitting on Jinx's large four poster bed. When the ohers left, I stayed behind to say my goodbyes to Jinx, because this was the fist time I had met her. The four poster had been intriguing me. I had been looking at the carving at the foot , and I was intrigued. "Er---ropes?" I asked..

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I'm a young guy who is in most aspects straight, but I do have a bi side. I like to say I'm straight, just horny for dick sometimes. I've been writing stories about some of my experiences because I have a little spare time and it's fun. All these stories are true and happened in the last few years.

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The twins could see the distant vehicle coming up the mountain road towards the house. They looked at each other, grinning. "What do you think he'll be like?" said Anne. Her sister snorted. "Much like last time, but four years older. How the hell would I know?" "He was good-looking then. He's nineteen, now." Anne glanced across at Beth. "I wonder if he's got a steady girlfriend."

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Last night was different. I don't feel well. That is to say that physically I feel fine, better than ever, but I'm disgusted and sick in my heart and mind. It's like I said before, when he's here and with me it all makes sense, but when he's gone I'm left wondering what I was thinking. Even as I sit here writing this, I can feel him inside of me, and the doubt starts to dwindle. He's not coming tonight. He's in town, and he's laughing at something. The more of him I feel inside me, the less of me there is left.

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April 1994, I was twenty years old living in a U.S. Army barracks in the middle of Germany. I was a private first class and was nowhere near high enough in the chain of command to have my own room, so I shared with a guy three years older than me named Robert. We had a small bathroom, a tiny living room type area, and a bedroom, which had two single beds against each wall, with a pair of night tables, bookshelves, and a long dresser with our TV on it.

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Different times demand different styles of play, and lately the intense play I crave has been on hiatus. This saddens me even as I welcome the new facet to our dynamic. Indeed, I begged for this, pleaded for it, and the outcome pleases me every bit as much as it does him. Still though, I crave...something. I'm not even sure what; I only know that I long for total, complete submission, being owned by him in every way possible.

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