Your erotic stories

I suppose you could say it was my own fault. I was on holiday and I suppose I let my hair down a bit. You know how it is. School's over for the year. You're eighteen and away from home. Nothing to do but have a good time. And that's what I was doing. That's all. I wasn't doing anything wrong. Not really. On this particular day I'd hired a moped and gone for a drive. I was just another teenager buzzing around on this little bike. It was fun.

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She was so drunk. She thought the girls that brought her along were her friends, but they weren't. If they were, they'd have never let me drag her away from the fire. I was a gatecrasher. I hadn't expected to be at any party, I didn't really know too many people in this city apart from my house-mates. I work at a local drive-through liquor store. Late one night a bunch of immature, loud-mouthed lads came through and told us about a beach party they were going to.

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One must love road trips. I know I do. Fate also has the most amazing way of showing you that even though you have it all figured out, there are certain things which can occur that are beyond even your wildest fantasy. I was driving down the road, coming home from a particularly horrible day at work. In the hazy mist of a cruel evening, something jumped in front of my Accord. I swerved to avoid it, which luckily I did, but managed to hit something else that was in the road.

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"Gimme a little taste," he whispers. I give him an are-you-sure look. The road we are on turns and twists with the coastline; beautiful to look at, treacherous for those types of games. But he's had his hand in my jeans for the last quarter mile. At first he'd had to coax, but he knows just where to touch, and just how to press. Now I was wide open to him, responsive to every touch, deliberate in every returned caress.

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I had sat there at Joey's beachside bar for more than an hour, watching the young man playing in the surf. When I'd first arrived at the bar, both bored and out of sorts, I'd seen him on his surfboard, riding the waves and doing quite well at it. At length, however, I saw him tire of that and come up on the beach and bury the tip of the board into the wet sand, with a strong force that, in itself, would have arrested my attention.

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There had been quite a group of them there together when they first hit the beach. It had been a hot day and it seemed that everyone they knew had decided to spend it on the beach. With the cool change most people had packed up and gone. Even the surf had died down. There was still a little group of friends there. There was only a few of them now and they were the last. Once they were gone the beach would be deserted.

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All the time I was standing out on the balcony of Colleen Addison's house fourteen miles south of Athens, in Voula, overlooking Greece's Miroon Sea, and engaging in chit chat with her and the man who was introduced to me merely as Sam from the Economic Section, I kept thinking that I knew him from someplace but couldn't place him.

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Thanks for reading this story! It's my first one so feel free to leave criticism in the comments. I've wanted to write erotica for a long time and I finally put a story together. This is a shorter story. I've got plans to continue it so stay tuned!

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Divorce didn't figure to be a matter of any particular concern to Josie. Both she and her husband had done well in their careers. If need be she could live well on her own salary plus royalties, but she didn't need to. Rod had been so anxious to shed his middle-aged wife in order to marry the girl barely older than their daughter he agreed to give Josie whatever her lawyer asked.

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I discovered very early in my life that I am an inveterate voyeur. My most fulfilling, most erotic sexual experiences have always involved watching. Watching movies. Watching television. Watching on the Internet. Even watching in my minds eye as I read stories. Naturally, I simply enjoy watching women as they go about their daily activities.

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