Your erotic stories

How do I get myself into these things? Because I'm a sucker for men who beg, that's how. Look on my forehead, see the big "S"? It magically appears whenever a man gets down on his knees, clasps his hands together, and says "Please, please, oh pretty please?" It must be some sort of motherly instinct. I never had any kids, and I always thought I transferred my need for raising children to my dogs.

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This story occurred chronologically before my story "Not Lesbians," which also features Marilyn. While they are separate stories, I recommend reading this one first, as Mare has made further sexual progress by the time of the other story. I met this good-looking girl Marilyn in a Psychology class soon after I transferred to a different college my sophomore year.

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For generations, the Royal Family had been protected by the elite Royal Guard, given the best training and the most advanced weapons to date. With a proud heritage which stretched back generations, the Royal Family had always been under the protectorate one family.

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It was early April when I returned to the house I had spent my entire life in, up until the previous September. I had gone to college on the other side of the country and had been incredibly homesick for the small town I grew up in, a place I had hated until I had to leave. I missed my friends, my neighbours, my parents especially, and I was incredibly excited to see everyone when I got back home. Unfortunately, I was the first of my friends to finish my final exams at school, so I was back in town two weeks before most of my friends would be back.

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Patterson and I had just ordered a pizza when his phone rang. He glanced at the Caller ID window and looked up as the waitress brought us a pitcher of beer. "Sorry, dude," he said. "I need to take this one. It's Mom." He looked away and lowered his voice as he turned his attention to the call. I tried to pretend I was suddenly interested in the clever "Go Tigers!" declarations hanging on the walls of Sal's Pizza.

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I knew I shouldn't be looking, but I couldn't help myself. Kim had closed the door to her office and pulled the blinds, stopping anyone from seeing into her office. We worked in an 'L' shaped office and Kim and I each occupied the first office on side of the L, essentially allowing me to see in through her outside window from my own.

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Looking back, all the signs were there. Rita never wanted sex anymore. That alone didn't alarm me, given our sex life had never been vigorous. Then she started paying more attention to her appearance after years of neglect. Throw in the prolonged absences without sound explanations.

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This is the sequel to "Night of Lust for a Small Woman". I suggest you to read it, for a better understanding, but it's not strictly necessary. The characters are: -CAROL, nickname "Child" : a lovely, middle-aged, small housewife, who is captured and repeatedly raped by a gang of tall, strong convicts.

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"Sammy? Sammy!" his mother called from downstairs, the second time a bit more panicky and urgent even though she had hardly given him time to respond to the first. Sam had been lying down on his bed, relieved that the weekend had finally arrived and thinking about what to jerk off to tonight. When he heard the familiar yet annoying sound of his mother calling he sighed, got up, and opened his bedroom door.

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I was sitting on the back porch of my wife's uncle's house in western Nebraska, enjoying the sun and unseasonably warm temperature along with a cold beer and a cigar. It was Saturday afternoon and we'd been out hunting pheasant since early that morning but, after lunch, my father-in-law and his brothers had decided a power nap was in order. I decided instead to take advantage of perhaps my last opportunity for a few months to sit outside in just cargo pants and a t-shirt.

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