Your erotic stories

Robert Kyle had finally had it. Everyday he allowed his American History class the last five minutes of the period to themselves. And everyday during those last five minutes, the female student sitting directly in front of him would do something to give him a raging hard-on. Dropping a pencil. Re-tying a shoelace. Tossing something in the wastebasket and missing by a mile. All three caused her to have to bend over.

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In my world nothing is ever random even when it seems to be, because random in my world leads to chaos, uncontrollable chaos which seemed to follow me despite how cautious I could be at times both personally and professionally.

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The grill was hot and sending enticing aromas floating throughout the neighborhood. Everywhere there was laughter and conversation as the family caught up at the last blast of summer — the annual Labor Day cookout. Zach stole a glance at the cooler as his uncle fished out a beer. Daydreaming about how good an ice-cold beer would go down, he sighed.

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When I went in there weren't too many people in the coffee shop. It's a bigger coffee place, the Java Palace, and it has a lot of nooks and crannies; but on Wednesday evenings there's usually not much of a crowd and they only have one barista. I had a lot on my plate; I'm the night concierge at the budget inn downtown, and I had to finish a paper on pre-revolution Russia for my twentieth-century history class. I sidled up to the counter.

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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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Chapter One Katelyn McKinley looked in the mirror and was surprised that the woman looking back at her looked so fresh and pretty. Katelyn was tired most of the time these days, and taking care of herself was often last on her list. Raising her precocious six year old daughter, Carly and three year old twin sons, Colin and Connor, pretty much drained her of most of her energy. But tonight, the woman in the mirror looked attractive and glowing.

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I washed my bowl out and set it in the sink. Glancing over at the stove, I put the lid back on the pot of Chili and wiped my hands on a towel hanging from the oven. Turning up the glass of iced water, I all but chugged it down to wash the spice from my mouth. I knew I needed to quit eating hot chili. I dreaded the inevitable heartburn I would no doubt experience later.

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Becky Freeman couldn't believe her luck. Here she was, an eighteen-year-old girl visiting a sorority house at the college she planned on attending in the fall, stuck sitting bored on a couch instead of exploring campus or checking out any of the weekend parties. As part of the school's orientation program she was paired up with one of the current students as a chaperone of sorts.

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So, this is it, I thought to myself. I had not told my wife of this plan, of course. It was not something that I cared to share with her. Then again, I didn't share much at all with her anymore, except for our last names. She had made it clear that she wanted nothing to do with my "kinky stuff". That included spanking her, tying her up, and generally having my way with her. She was much more conservative than I turned out to be.

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"Could you hand me that blanket?" she says as she takes off Nick's shoes. "Yeah, sure," he answers getting the blanket from the cedar chest. "Thanks," she says taking it from him and spreading it over her boyfriend, pulling it up to his chest. She gets up to leave and he catches her hand, mumbling, "Where'r ya goin?"

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