Your erotic stories

Sophomore year was going to be great. The summer was fun, and while I missed being away from my college friends, I missed being in the city the most. Boston is a great place to go to college and it made suburban Ohio feel like a thousand miles away. I couldn't stay out late, or go to parties because I was still only 19.

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It was finals week. Everyone on campus was in their respective places cramming for exams that would determine where they ranked scholastically. Scholarships were won and lost during this universally stressful time on campus. I'm not boasting but I love this last two weeks of a semester. It's quiet.

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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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Mark lazily stabbed his fork at the frozen meal, puncturing the plastic before shoving it in the microwave. He set the timer before taking a long sip of his beer, his third of the evening. He tossed the package toward the garbage, already overflowing with similar boxes and the matching dirty trays. Leaning against the kitchen counter, he scratched at the rough beard on his jaw.

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Thank you for all the positive comments about the Twins. The first two chapters begin with present-day followed by a flashback, so you might enjoy things a bit more if you read the first two installments. This chapter picks up again at present day. Enjoy!

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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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Have you seen her? You probably know, or perhaps can remember, a girl like her. She's the cute girl who sits in the back of the classroom and never says anything to anyone. She quietly takes her notes and leaves when class is over. Sometimes those kind of girls have secrets. Wonderful, naughty secrets.

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Brandy marched across campus with a determination she had never known. She was so focused in fact, that for once she didn't notice all the usual glances, stares and double takes she caused when she walked by. Brandy had an angelic face, with large, bright, brown eyes, her face was framed in shoulder-length, shiny, brown hair, which bobbed and swayed when she moved. This heavenly visage was contrasted, by her body, which looked as if it had been made for sin.

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Michael Halversun has a hard time recounting his memories, even now that he is safe in the small book laden office of his therapist. The twenty year old is filled with guilt, his voice wavering as he speaks into the tape recorder and his therapist sits across from him, listening to his tale. His upbringing told him that adultery was a great sin, and his masculinity told him that it was his fault. Whether either of those things were true really didn't matter any more to him. Michael had been raped.

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It had been a rough week. Fighting with the wife had made my night life quite quiet. To top it all off she had decided to go and visit her mother for the weekend. She must have been really pissed off as she told our daughter that she could have one of her college friends spend the night. I wasn't really impressed as I was now responsible for the two of them and all their miscreant behaviors.

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