Your erotic stories

She's got long, straight blond hair that always smells like coconut, a pair of legs that make up two-thirds of her height, and a round, narrow little ass. She also has an insolent, self-satisfied swagger, a pert, better-than-thou smirk, and a fifty-dollar manicure. I've taught a few like her before, and I know the way it goes. She's seen how I look at her. She's slacked off this whole term. I can tell she thinks she can scam an A out of me by shaking her ass.

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When she crossed over I-80, Nancy snuggled her lean frame into the soft leather that was wrapped around the driver's seat and kicked off her heels. The countryside and farms blurred beside her and she day-dreamed as the car continued its course, almost on autopilot, down I-57 towards Champaign, Illinois. She enjoyed these drives. They represented the only time during the week when she could shut down, block out the irritations of her life.

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The phone's catcall squirmed its way under the covers. The ringing passed over the hills and valleys of Aurelio's fluffy black comforter and worn green sheets. The sound found the soft corners of his skull and nestled in there, curled around itself like a small dog and settled down for the wait.

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"I'm concerned about your work in this course, Theresa. You've already missed three assignments, you haven't been to half of my classes, and your midterm research assignment is due in two weeks. How is that coming? Have you started it?" "Yes, Professor Burk, but I don't know what to write. I tried to do the other assignments, but I'm behind in all my classes.

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I had literally creamed myself almost nightly for Phil's body, but Phil was about as straight as they come—and getting all the female tail he could handle if all the talk around campus was true. We were both attending the university on athletic scholarships—Phil on a football and baseball scholarship and me on a wrestling scholarship, wrestling being a good way for me to get down and dirty with other hot, sweating, muscular dudes.

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Amy stormed into her dorm room and threw her books on her desk. "Damnit, I'm freaking failing this class!" Her roommate Carey looked up at her, wide eyed, from her computer. "What class is it?" she asked, eyeing her rather angry friend. "Stupid Computer Science! I fucking hate it, but I need the stupid credit!" Amy snarled, her voice sharp.

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This account of some of the events in my life was written as requested by the love of my life, my soul mate, my sister Abby. Here it is 1972 and I am living in Mobile, Alabama. Not sure how I ended up here but it seemed like a nice place to settle after drifting for a few months. I am enrolled in college and have made a few friends. With my injuries and scars from Viet Nam I am a little shy around people. I lost an eye and I wear a black patch over it.

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Please, don't ask me to explain how it happened, I don't know myself. Perhaps it was a late-night noise which awoke me from a pleasant dream, perhaps it was merely the need to see that everything was all right, that the windows were closed and the door to our shared apartment locked, or to get a drink from the communal kitchen.

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Lucy Wright was forty two and divorced with two grown sons. Both sons were in college but that did not mean much as the college was just across town. John the oldest was a senior and due to graduate in the fall. He had an apartment near campus, which he shared with his girlfriend. Joe the youngest was a sophomore and lived at home most of the time.

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She walked into his office knowing what this meeting was about. Earlier that day, Sarah had received an email from one of her professors wanting to discuss an important topic. While the email didn't specify what the topic was, Sarah knew her last paper was below standards. She had just started dating someone and, while she knew she shouldn't, Sarah was putting less effort into her school work and more into her new relationship.

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