Your erotic stories

Sophomore year in college, I started dating a sorority girl. Molly was nice, good looks but a pretty boring personality, but I had been without a steady girlfriend since I had gotten to school, so she fit the bill I was looking for. Her sorority was the one on campus with the worst reputation. Her sisters were always drunk at the bars and going home with guys whose names they didn't even know. I had even hooked up with one of them when we were both freshmen.

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I was spending another Friday night behind the video store counter. My good for nothing co-worker Jason was passing the time text messaging his girlfriend, basically the only thing he did at work. I once asked him how many text messages that day while working and he told me around hundred as if it was nothing.

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“Perfect!” screamed Jeff, “This is fucking perfect!” It absolutely was not perfect. In fact this was horrible. Jeff’s car just overheated on the most deserted road in Texas. “Fuuuck!” He screamed into open car engine. The was the worst thing that could have happened. And he only had, he checked his watch, 4 more hours!

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The air was warm and the morning sunshine streamed through my window and across my bed. My eyes slowly came open and I yawned into my pillow. I stretched thoroughly; my fingers, my back, my legs, and blinked myself awake before flipping over onto my back. About this time, I noticed that I was suffering from that most terrible affliction: Morning Wood.

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My going away party was winding down. I wasn't going to miss this place but I would miss the people. That was for certain. All of the other bosses had gone and only Chrissie and myself remained as well as Tim, Ron, and Frank. They were always like my older brothers and they had always looked after me. I was 36 and had been with the company for almost ten years. We all joked that we had to keep sending each other e-mails. "The nastier the better" Tim said referring to how I always sent good, funny and sometimes raunchy e-mail to them.

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The first time I was with another couple was in California. I worked at night as a musician, spent days running, biking, practicing. Occasionally I'd pick up a movie at the local adult store. Adult store patrons are the same the world over: middle-aged married men, rendezvous-ing gay men, horny twenty-year-old gotta-get-off-NOW men (that was me). Drunks and druggies of all shapes and sizes. A prostitute or two. And the occasional nervous couple.

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As luck would have it, I finally met a girl I liked. And she seemed to like me. Our third date and she was letting me cook her dinner. At my apartment. Just me and her. I could not blow this. I let her into my building, and we began to walk up to the third floor. I was a gentleman and let her in first and we began to climb the stairs. Of course there are advantages to being a gentleman. Like walking up a flight or two of stairs with a pretty girl in front of you and being able to gaze at her ass.

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I am what is commonly called a soccer mom. But in this case I guess it is to be taken literally. My own two sons grew up playing soccer. Over the years I drove God knows how many hundreds or maybe thousands of miles; to practice, from practice, to games, from games, to the sporting good store, etc. You get the idea. My sons played for the Centerville Centurions for their four years of high school, and I was at every game cheering them on to victory and consoling them in defeat.

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They fucked like two wild and overheated animals an hour ago and now were luxuriating in the sweetly sublime afterglow of their lovemaking, naked in bed, idly caressing each other, nuzzling and talking. Yvette thought that maybe now was the right time to mention it. “You know, Don,” she said, running a finger through his hair, gazing into his eyes, “I’ve had this new fantasy lately, and I just can’t get it out of my head. I mean, it’s something I’ve been thinking about that really, really turns me on.

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"Don't think I haven't noticed how Jack looks at my tits when he doesn't think I'm looking at him," Janice told Marie. "Yeah, he's a boob man, can't help it," Marie answered. "Doesn't it bother you?" said Janice, "If he looks at my boobs you know he's gotta check others out too." "Nope, I trust him," said Marie, "When I catch him checking another woman out he always reminds me that he may be on a diet but that doesn't stop him from reading the menu. Besides, we've talked about doing a threesome some day."

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