Your erotic stories

Once, when I was 18, I was home alone poking around the house with nothing really to do. I started snooping around my parent's room and found a box under the bed. I pulled it out and opened it. Inside was a pretty good sized stash of porn movies, assorted oils, lubes and a big12" pink vibrator. My eyes grew wide at this little discovery. Who knew my parents were so kinky?

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It was a full week before Bethany heard again from Mrs Boxwell. All during the week at school she had felt anxiety, almost heartsickness, at what she had done last Saturday night. A million questions went through her mind. Mainly, it was: What's wrong with me? But then as she thought about her cute friend Lissy on her knees doing what she was doing, how shocking it was, she could not help but get excited. Late in her bed at night she masturbated. Oh, it was wrong, but she couldn't stop herself.

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I wasn't planning on doing much of anything that evening. It was raining pretty hard out and I didn't have anything I really needed to get done anyway. Then the phone rang. "Michael, have you seen your sister?" It was my mother's voice on the other end, she sounded worried. "No, why?" "It's just, she ran off and we don't know where. We called some of her friends' houses but nobody's seen her. I hoped maybe... maybe you would know where she was." She was close to panic.

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Frankie had been doing the same thing every summer since he was 14; mowing the lawns for the local housewives of his neighborhood for some extra cash. Most paid him well, and he had a series of regular clients. Most people wouldn't think looking at him that such a friendly and dependable kid would also be successfully running his own lawn mowing business. Now, 18, this would be his last summer of mowing lawns as he was leaving for college in August. Frankie was a handsome young man, with light brown hair and blue eyes, and thanks to his lawn mowing job, had developed a nice firm shape to his 5'11" body.

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Mr. David was in his second year of teaching Band and things were not going well. The previous band teacher had been very old, and band in High School was never really the cool thing to do, so he was having a really hard time getting kids to be in his Marching Band. He had brought in outside help in the form of one of his friends from a marching band corps, but still things were not going well.

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It was my senior year of high school, and my 3rd and final year as a Varsity Cheerleader Team... Rah Rah and all that stuff. There are two things that really come back to me in the way of memories about those times... Jealousy and Competition amongst us... and Road Trips! I'm gonna skip the petty stuff and go for what you guys always ask me about. In this case, I'm gonna tell you about one of the basketball road trips we went on.

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September 2003 "Ya got ten bucks Mister?" she asked as she darted in front of me, one of a small group of black clad, pierced and tattooed punkers who'd mysteriously appeared in the neighborhood just days earlier. "Ten bucks? What happened to the fifty cents for squeegeeing my windshield?" I asked with a grin. "Fifty-cents! A rich, hip Miami guy like you," she teased, jiving me as she danced backward as I continued walking.

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All characters in the story are over the age of eighteen. * When I walked into my parents' house, I saw my mom on the phone. Shit, this can't be good. She was staring right at me. "Okay Rhonda, he'll do it. Six okay? It is? Great." I slung my back pack down on the couch. "What?" I asked. I was cautious of everything this woman did.

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Thanks to all those readers who have asked for more chapters in this series. I never thought of writing a series but because you have continuously asked for more from this story, I have done my best to comply. We all live multi-faceted lives (I don't have time to write but once or twice every other week) but I will try to write new chapters and follow-ups to my other stories too. Thanks again to all those readers who have emailed with kudos, I live and write for them. For those who write saying they don't like something, thanks too but only when it is constructive criticism. I'm learning to be a better writer. That being said, lets move on to Jenny and her pretty mouth.

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Miss Sanders settled her class down after coming back from a break so she can start the English class with everyone calm and quiet. It never took more than two loud firm orders from her to get all of her students to hush up and pay attention. They were especially attentive ever since her sex-ed classes a couple months ago and they were all the more eager to please her and do as she says.

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