Your erotic stories

"What a conniving bitch" was all I could think. When I had turned eighteen in June my foster mother could have kicked me to the curb but she hadn't. Relief first struck me then suspicion. My foster mother wasn't exactly Mother Theresa, there had to be a catch. It wasn't obvious at first what was really going on. The condition for my remaining was simple, I had to pay my way. Plus she would need a little for rent. No problem.

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Penny was nervous and paranoid as she roamed the halls of the high school. Not only had she graduated six months ago, but this wasn't even the school she'd graduated from. No, this was the school where Beth, Penny's new friend, was a senior. It was the lunch hour, and though the halls were crowded with students heading to their lockers, the cafeteria, the parking lot, or other classes, Penny felt like she stuck out.

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Sweat dripped off Matthew's forehead and stung his pale blue eyes. Not the Halloween weather Matthew remembered growing up with in Delaware. Even after four years he had difficulty adjusting to his new home in San Diego. Adults ferried their costumed children through the hot afternoon, trick or treating amidst shops that enticed with free treats for the little kids and costly treats for the bigger ones. Signs posted in bars announced Halloween parties with prizes for the best costume. Tattoo parlors advertised Halloween discounts.

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I've always fantasized about viewing a movie in an adult theater just to see if the rumors are true. I fantasize about being approached by multiple men, horny with lust for anonymous sex with me. Men wanting to ravage me, cum in and on me, raw sex, nothing but. I know it sounds sick, nasty and perverted, I don't really give a damn . It's my fantasy. It isn't like I'd ever really do it but the thought of it makes me wet.

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I was sitting at my desk when I heard the familiar tap tap on my cubical wall. Not having a door means you make do with whatever approximation you can. "Mark, I need you to go to Japan for me," my manager said. I looked up from my monitor. I had been engrossed in a riveting and fascinating technology brief (not!), and welcomed the interruption. Even so, though, it took me a second to register what he said.

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