Your erotic stories

It was a good night at the Crow's Nest Coffee House. The audience was larger than usual, probably because it was the beginning of the tourist season. My set went off without too many problems, rare when I'm working on new songs. At the end of the evening several people came up to the stage, where I was packing up my guitar, and commented on my playing.

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The first days of our holiday together passed without awkwardness and we could relax together as I showed her around the Island. She saw first-hand that there was no lover waiting for me and it was that, I think, that opened the doors to a cautious reawakening of our brother sister relationship. Did I say "cautious?"

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The house looked beautiful in the pictures...a gorgeous suburban home with a driveway and a big private back yard. The rent was reasonable and week to week, and express buses to the city were right around the corner. It seemed like the perfect place to stay while I looked for an apartment of my own in New York City, where I was about to start a new job.

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"Jeez, it's like an oven in here!" Melanie complained as she gingerly sat down onto the leather upholstery of Gary's luxury sedan. They had worked closely together for several months to land a large account and were headed off to celebrate with a nice lunch at company expense. It was a scorching Georgia summer day.

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I know it's wrong to look at your little girl and want to be buried inside her tight little pussy, but God help me that's the way my little Kimmi has made me feel for two years now. She's eighteen now and will be graduating high school this June. She is every guys dream. Her strawberry blond hair brushes her shoulders and her green eyes are the color of emeralds and when she's happy they sparkle just like a gem too. Of course when she's mad, they darken to almost black, but she's hardly ever that mad. With one of those happy go lucky attitudes she's such a joy to be around.

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"You're joking," I said. "Hear me out. He likes you, trusts you. Maybe he'll tell you what's wrong." The desperation in my long-time friend's voice was apparent. "There's nothing wrong. Danny's just a late-bloomer! Hell, the kid's only eighteen!" "That's what I had convinced myself, too. But, eighteen? Fine at fifteen and sixteen, but he graduates High School in three months. He's never had a girl friend, not even one date!" she shrieked.

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Misty strode confidently into the student center at her university that spring afternoon. She had just gotten out of her least favorite class, and had in her hands the test from last week. The surprising "97%" was written on the top in a red pen. Now she could just check her mail, and sit down and read for a few hours until dinnertime with her friends.

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My husband and I always looked forward to the NASCAR season. This goes back to the day we met while camping in Rock City for the race at Charlotte. Every season we tried to make it to as many races as we could, camping out in the off field campgrounds and enjoying the total NASCAR experience. As time went on, and we became more successful, our camping equipment went from tents, to pop-up trailers, to a fifth wheel trailer then on to our current luxury motor home.

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He was just an online fuck buddy. I have maybe thirty on my IM. When my husband is at work or when he's just not scratching that itch I can get online and be sure that one or two of them will be online and ready to talk dirty to me, to play to my fantasies or to watch me on cam as I make myself cum harder than I ever could alone. He was just one of many.

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Sam Stafford is a grouchy old man who lives up the road from us. Well when I say old, he's probably in his early thirties, but from the arrogant young age of eighteen, thirty is old. Especially the way he acts at times. He does, I will admit, have a green thumb, and his garden has the best roses for miles around. Come spring he had an amazing display. That's partly what led to the trouble.

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