Your erotic stories

Carly absolutely loved babysitting for Debbie Anderson's three year old son. Not only did she have free reign of what she considered the mansion that Debbie lived in, but Brad was a breeze to watch and went to sleep very early, and soundly. Not a bad way to make a few bucks for the twenty year old college student.

read more

"Harder, baby! Oh shit! Don't stop!" She was panting and writhing under me, nails digging into my back, legs around my waist. Her hair was wild, her eyes closed and her mouth open, gasping for air. She was all that I had wanted in the past few months and I was doing everything I could to make her feel good.

read more

Shay's college roommate had moved out for the summer to study abroad. This left Shay with an empty room and not enough rent money. She decided to put an ad in the university newspaper in hopes of finding a girl to live with for three months. Sure enough, not long after, Kate moved in.

read more

[This story can be read on its own, but it continues the story of Jonathan and David into the next generation. All institutions and characters in the story are purely imaginary.] * Chapter 1 Early years One of my earliest memories is when I was about six years old being taken for a walk by Uncle Arthur Rockwell in the wood that he and my cofather had planted at Ixton some eight or so years before.

read more

As a college freshman at a state school in the Rocky Mountains, I was a pretty conservative guy, especially considering all the boozing, drugs, and wild sex that was running rampant in my coed dorm. My high school years were very low key; I had dated the same girl since sophomore year, swam competitively, and studied hard. At university, I was in way over my head as a mechanical engineering major and the freshman weed-out courses were giving me hell. I drank a little on the weekends, but most of my free time was spent studying.

read more

*Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age. ***** Chapter 1 Richard Ignatius Pennington, Rip as he called himself, checked the card, and then checked the door number. 413; freshmen got the fourth floor of the dormitory. Sophomores got the third floor, juniors were on the second floor, and the seniors got the ground floor.

read more

The next-to-the-last weekend had now descended for the gang at Spirit Lake before summer ended and we scattered again to our respective colleges and "whatever" activities. Giddiness was high, which is saying something for the group of friends from the affluent Atlanta uptown district of Buckhead, but we'd been on the other edge of giddy every weekend we'd come down to the lake.

read more

This happened when I was in college and shared a duplex with a friend and fellow student at the beach. It was summertime and we both worked at a hot-spot bar at the beach. It was a great summer. We spent our days at the beach and nights working at a place where it didn't even seem like working sometimes. It was the 70s when disco was hot, and the place was crawling with girls down for the week from Ohio and New Jersey. They just wanted to drink and get laid and we were happy to accommodate.

read more