Your erotic stories

When you start writing a fiction story, it's fun to think about where to start. But when you're writing a true story, especially one with a lot of threads runnings through it, deciding where to start is really hard. There are so many strands involved in explaining the key event, and people won't understand you if you don't describe them well. They may even judge you.

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"Would you help me over in Reference, please?" Richard looked up from his filing. He swiveled his head, looking for the source of the clear, but tiny voice. "I'm rearranging and I need someone to help move the shelves and lift the boxes of books." He spied Sylvia, standing a little to the side and behind him. Richard nodded "ok" and filed the last two cards. He closed the card file drawer and followed her to the reference room, for which she had already started.

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Jimmy parked his truck in front of the dorm and climbed out. Checking the name on the front of the building, he walked up the sidewalk and pulled the door open. As soon as he stepped into the building, he heard her. "JIMMY!" He turned to the sound and barely had time to register the form of a pretty brunette before she flew into his arms.

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Mark and I have been friends since we were five. We met in kindergarten and pretty much were inseparable all the way through high school, college and to this day. Pee Wee football, junior varsity, varsity. Sleepovers at my house and camping trips with his family. When he got a car for his 16th we started double dating as well. Both of us played ball just well enough to get chosen for our small state college as walk-ons.

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It all started on a beautiful Saturday morning in early June. I just started fixing a few sections of the fence between my house and my neighbor's. It was already very hot and the sun was moving up over the trees in my back yard making the work extremely hot and sweaty. I removed my shirt for a little relief from the heat and was just wearing a pair of old jeans and some work boots.

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So here it was, Thanksgiving Day, and I found myself in a strange man's bathroom, with my pantyhose pulled down around my knees, my dress hiked up over my hips, and that strange man's cock sliding in and out of my pussy. Well, in truth, he wasn't a complete stranger ... he was my boyfriend's father and I had met him two hours prior. But I'm getting ahead of myself, let me start at the beginning.

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One day, a classmate from my Asian Arts class stopped me just after class. He invited me to a party at his fraternity. I thought about it, and since I had no other invitation, I decided to go and have a little crazy fun while I was there. You know; you're only in college once. Frat parties have not been on my list of 'must do' social events since my third semester.

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I knew the girl had it. I had followed her from the coffee shop and saw her check into the motel. I had to get to her before she hid it, when she still had it on her. I was quick enough--she had opened the motel room door and stepped inside, and I gave her maybe 30 seconds before I was sticking a card into the keycard slot.

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As I have mentioned in an earlier story ("Teaching Kaci"), I worked as a professor of English at a small but expensive New England college for about thirty years. The college had a mandatory policy of "retirement at 65", but I had decided to take mine about five years before that. My wife had died of cancer some years earlier, and I wanted to spend what remained of my life doing some traveling. I even thought about the idea of moving to Paris if I could get a small apartment.

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Her throat was burning and she found it hard to breathe. Her knees were aching from supporting her entire weight for too long on the cold tile floor. These pains were tolerable, minor even, compared to the humiliation that she had just experienced and even more painful still was knowing that she was about to endure an ever greater embarrassment.

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