Your erotic stories

It was dark, probably about midnight, when I went into Sally's room. I stood looking over her room with a tremendous hard on pointing into the darkness like a searching finger. I looked down on her bed. As always, it was carefully made up, a modest but neat cotton blanket to keep the chill off during the cool summer nights. On the night stand was a picture of her 30 year-old son, barely visible in the darkness, a lamp and her Bible.

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