Your erotic stories

Rob and Dolly Hamlin were sitting in Oldham’s Bar in North St. Louis having a drink with their son Scott. Oldham’s was a gathering place for most of the bikers in the area. Scott had a motorcycle customizing shop right next door and the location couldn’t have been better. It was like having the bar do your advertising and marketing for you, Scott said. The bar was packed this evening and the customers were the usual lot.

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At first glance, you probably wouldn't guess me for the type that I really am. I look no different than any other college student. Eighteen years old, medium long blonde hair, nice smile, honest eyes, decently built. I spent most of my time like all my other friends. I go to lectures, I do my homework, I party, I go out with friends. Nothing really special...

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There is never time for even kisses once the door is closed and the helmets are unstrapped and off. I know exactly what must happen, there can be no prevarication, no need to dance around it; not with the invisible force flowing between us, around us, inside of us, all through us. Gloves are pulled off and he unbuckles the straps and parts the studs on our leather jackets.

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When I stopped in at Starbucks on my lunch hour last week I had no idea what was going to happen. I was dawdling-it was a slow day at the office. No one seemed to care when I announced I was taking off half an hour early to go work out. I went through my sets quickly so there was time for coffee when I finished-not lunch, as I was determined not to let my hard-won gains get covered up by belly fat.

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