Your erotic stories

My introduction to lesbianism came a few years ago, the summer after my freshman year of college. I am 5'2, 34a, thin, short brown hair and green eyes. My mom's best friend, Catherine, is very tall, almost 6, long blonde hair she almost always wears up, blue eyes, 36d and a gym hard body.

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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.

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Security guard isn't the most glamourous job in the world, but it suits me fine. After all, who else gets paid for sitting around watching a monitor all night? It's a bit monotonous, but it gives me time to think. You can go into a kind of zen trance watching all the nothing going on. Lately I had been working this university gig – campus cops. It wasn't bad. I got to walk around a bit, and the worst I had to do was break up a frat brawl or escort a panicky girl back to her dorm.

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*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.

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Wally and I were roommates in college when I realized who I truly was sexually. Before Wally, I had been with girls. Hell, I liked being with girls a lot and loved eating pussy particularly. Hardly the resume of a gay bottom, but maybe the way I lost myself in the act of giving pleasure to women should have been a tip-off to me somehow. There was something submissive about the way in which their pleasure became my pleasure.

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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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I was in college when I first had sex with another man. It was my first gay experience. It wasn't planned, at least not by me. I'm pretty sure he had planned it, or at least had set up the situation so that things might happen. It was enlightening for me feeling those new emotions and physical sensations. It was psychologically intense and redefined how I viewed myself and my sexuality.

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First off, it's not as bad as it sounds, really. I'm her step-father, and not her real dad. But in the end it's just an excuse. I mean, I raised her through her teen years and saw her off to college, so I guess, unless she really thought her deadbeat dad was a father to her, I was it.

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My name is Jill. This story is about how my best friend Laura and I first discovered the joy that two loving females could give to each other. All through our years at University I had initially admired Laura for her poise and strength and I had a crush on her that I would barely admit to myself, unwilling to admit that I may have lesbian tendencies. One time in our final year it came to a head.

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Billie was tiny, less than 5' tall, maybe 4'10" , weighed maybe 100 lbs., and cute as she could be. She was wearing a short-skirt skating outfit like ice skaters wear, but it was a roller-rink. Jay, John and I had been watching her and her boyfriend from High School (they'd enrolled at the Baptist College in town together) whirl around the floor, her like the little acrobat she was, him stumbling along with her. He was almost as clumsy as she was adept.

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