Your erotic stories

"Why aren't you having sex with Trevor?" asked Jen during lunch with her best friend. "If I had a housemate who was: a good looking guy, with a big cock, knew how to use it and liked to eat pussy .... I'd be fucking him two to three times a week. Maybe even two to three times a day on the weekends!" "You're such a slut!" replied Tina, laughing. "Believe me I've thought about it ever since I broke up with Steve two months ago.

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As I looked from the ocean to my friend Carol, I wondered how much longer she wanted to stay. Our plan had been to come and hunt for guys but there weren't any guys that interested me, although Carol never seemed to tire of pointing out ones I should approach. Walking up to a guy I didn't know wasn't my style. According to her this is why it had been several years since the last time I had sex. I was lost in thought when she suddenly spoke up.

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My friend Jason had come a long way to visit me in Annapolis. The drive from northern Maine took him well over 14 hours and he had been exhausted. He said the trip had done him good. The driving had given him a lot of time to think about the events of the last few weeks when his wife left him for another man.

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I first heard from Rachel last May. She'd read my account of the threesome in a Bristol hotel I'd had and wanted to tell me how much it turned her on. She wrote: "Hi Deepblue32 -- liked A Story a lot. I was turned on pretty much from the first paragraph and I lost count of the number of times I came. God, when both you and Louise were cumming on Abby I don't think I've ever cum so hard.

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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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It was a gorgeous May afternoon. With temperatures hovering in the low 90s, I decided to cut my college classes and spend time down at the pool like any intelligent 19 year old would do. Okay, so it was not my pool. The pool at my cheap-ass apartment complex was still closed for long-overdue maintenance.

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“Okay guys. It’s time to finish what you’re doing and start tidying up.” I called to the six young guys in my decorating class. “Conner, I’m going to the staff room to get changed, so you’re in charge. No messing around, you lot! I need to be out of here in 30 minutes.” I’m a part-time leader for a Community Programme. The kids (usually 18 to 20 year olds) come to us for six months at a time to learn basic skills like joinery, brick laying, mechanics, or, in my case decorating.

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After that little Halloween incident with my gynecologist, Dr. Markus DeShade and his band of kinky cohorts, he has been exceptionally nice to me. So has his wife Evelyn, although I think her interest is more on the Sapphic side. Tall, good-looking women tend to become attracted to me, as was the case with my German friend, Eva Reichman (see Cat's Discovery).

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Lois and Rick, the two college friends who lived together and threw the Halloween party I mentioned in my story, "Feeling Kind Of Lucky," had been girlfriend-boyfriend for years before I ever met them, and Lois was best friends with Heather, the younger sister of my roommate Gary, who was also featured in that same story. Here's another true college story, this one about Lois, Heather, and me.

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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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