Your erotic stories

I was nineteen (about three years ago) when I had my first real life experience testing my foot fetish. I had been aware of my fetish since I was in middle school, always looking under the table at girl's feet. The older I got the stronger the fetish became. I had a couple girlfriends in high school but had never had the courage to tell them about my fetish.

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I've done something appalling, something that I have tried to stop doing but can't. No matter how severely I berate myself with a vow never to repeat my actions in moments of remorse, I can't resist such an overwhelming power. It's not lust; lust is such a puny word when I compare it to the wash of sheer, irresistible craving that I feel.

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Names of Characters in this story are fictitious and any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental. * With my cock straining to get loose from my jeans, I looked forward to seeing him every noon hour. He'd eat his sandwich, some cookies and an apple, while looking in my sport-card shop window. By now, I felt like I knew him. And when he'd left, I'd fantasize him naked in the back room, moaning, ecstatically, and pressing my face into his thick, black, pubic hair. 'Oh, yeah, man, get right down on my big, fat, uncut cock,' he'd shout, and I'd obediently do everything he commanded.

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Alison May sat in her classroom, her delicate fingers tapping on the processed plastic-for-wood top of her desk. She had watched thousands of students sit in their rows as she droned the same information to them year after year. She watched them fix their eyes on the clock above the chalkboard, trying to mentally will the hands of the timepiece to move faster. This desperate act of telekinesis was a common one around the world, and she believed that it wasn't wholly unjustified on their part.

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"Excuse me, sir. Could you spare a dollar or two? I haven't eaten in two days," Carey pleaded. The tall good looking and well dressed man about to enter the Starbuck's stopped to check out the much smaller woman speaking to him. She was petite, maybe five-four to his six-six stature. She was dirty but otherwise looked cute with brunette hair and blue eyes. "You look too young to be on your own," Tory Rider stated.

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"Tina, where are your clothes?" I asked the nubile teen I discovered naked in my den. "Clothes, don't need no stinkin' clothes, Mr. B," she slurred. "You've been drinking." Nothing like stating the obvious while trying to buy time, and having trouble dragging my eyeballs from staring at those gravity defying young tits, with the vividly erect nipples.

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Staring down the lane, the air shimmering in the baking sun, Kate let her mind wander for the first time that morning. She had spent the last few weeks of term looking forward to the summer break as the end of her first year at university drew to a close. Just three long months of lazing around in the sun and catching up with old school mates. Well that had been the plan, but now, just ten days in, all that seemed a distant dream.

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"These aren't on the menu buddy! Only the refills are free," snapped 19 year old Giselle Potter, as she caught yet another onlooker staring unashamedly at her gigantic teenage titties as they were molded into her skin-tight Mamma Mia's Pizza white tee shirt with the restaurant's name stretched widely across her colossal endowments.

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"Wake up, you fuck." Jeff opened his eyes and saw the barrel of a gun pressed against his forehead. Before Jeff could even see a face, the trigger was pulled and everything went black. Jeff sat up drenched in sweat. It was only a dream, but it was the same dream he'd been having for the past week. The dream was always exactly the same, always very short, always a gun to his forehead, and he never saw the face. After a few heavy breaths Jeff was finally ready to get back to sleep. He looked at the clock however, and it was almost time to wake up for work anyway.

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For three years since my wife died, I've tried to put a new life together in the more modern day-to-day world around me. My grown kids come to me for money and hint that they want their inheritance early. The women that I pick to date are either pushy or nuts. I don't understand what our leaders are doing to our economy and I am starting to drink and eat too much - time for me to regroup, decide to live alone and work. I'm good at work. I write for a successful living, can build houses and I am a good gardener.

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