Your erotic stories

I was hungry but I didn't know what for. My wife had left that morning with our baby to visit her mother for the weekend. I'd spent most of the morning laying around, feeling guilty for not going with her. We'd fought about it. I texted her, she didn't text back. I played some video games. I went outside, it was a hot summer day. I looked over the wall that enclosed my yard and saw someone a few yards down, puttering around, a neighbor I didn't know.

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My jaw was hanging wide open in disbelief as I set the phone down. "Oh my." I thought to myself. "I've got to share this with someone. My mind was racing through an internal address book trying to figure out who would be the safest person to share the juiciest gossip I had ever heard from the actual horse's mouth in my life.

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When Trevor came in to the Environmental Awareness Center at ten a.m. for his Wednesday volunteer shift a new receptionist was on duty. She looked to be in her mid-twenties with long auburn hair, sparkling green eyes, a rosy blemish-free complexion and a buxom chest. "Hi, I'm Trevor Bridges," he said extending his hand, "are you a new volunteer here?"

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The following morning Amanda's eyes opened slowly. Her mouth was dry and as she tried to swallow she could taste the remnants of last night's fun in the back of her throat. "What a night." Amanda thought to herself as she sat up in bed.

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Gia and Van had thrown a fantastic party. They had invited all their friends up to the big cabin up in the Laurel highlands. It was a perfect mid-winter get-together with lots of beer and food and good company. There had been tasty venison that Van had hunted himself and roasted on a spit, and a second bonfire.

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"329, 331, 333..." I muttered to myself, reading the numbers off the doors as I made my way down the narrow hotel hallway. I could almost hear the sound of my own nervous heartbeat over the quiet buzzing of a nearby ice machine as I pushed my hand into my pocket to pull out a folded, crumpled piece of paper. Cursing myself for the inability to calm my shaking nerves, I unfolded the small parchment and read the number scrawled upon it.

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The engine ticked lightly, rhythmically, having only recently completed a twenty mile journey. Rain dripped from the frame of the car, from the edges of its bumpers. The windows were blurred, save for the two arches where the wipers had recently swept drops from the tempered glass. The car didn't belong there. Not in that parking lot. Not in that town.

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I have been flirting with Kevin for a few months now. I have a burning desire to get a look at the cock that makes such a gorgeous bulge in his tight jeans. I'd love to get that thing into my mouth and see if I can get a few good reactions from him. I like to get a man off. I love it when they are satisfied and shoot a big warm load down my throat, or wherever they wish to put it. There is just one problem; I can't get him to allow me to give it a go.

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Don't get me wrong. I love a good sexy scenario as much as the next horny young woman. But even I knew this was completely unacceptable. I was your typical rebellious girl. My parents had divorced when I was little, and I refused to bother with anyone of their partners. I didn't see the point in pretending to like people I had nothing in common with and who, as far as I knew, were only bothering with me to please my parents.

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College classes are bad enough without falling behind. Between the sheer volume of classes and my work obligations that barely covered my living expenses, it was inevitable that something would give. Biology became the threatened species of my class load. Mrs. Gail Hannity was my Biology instructor. Smart, precise, and really quite beautiful, it was entirely possible that she was a major contributor to my in-class distraction.

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