Your erotic stories

Trillions is where you go to get laid. It's not a private club, but you do have to look a certain way to get through the door. Well-groomed, is perhaps the most polite way to phrase it. I flatter myself that I do try and take care of my looks. While photographing models I've picked up a few hints and tips, and I'm not too modest to say that I've been mistaken for one of them on occasion. For your benefit, I'm five-seven tall in bare feet, trim figure, 34C bust, with shortish blonde hair. My eyes are clear blue, and I have very full, soft lips, or so I've been told.

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Went To the Club to See a Band with Wife and Her Older Brother We all got the club early. The club was located in one of the bad parts of Detroit. We went to see Hinder. When we got there they were having a Jägermeister night. We all had several bombs and did several shot within the first hour. My wife cannot drink too many before she gets totally wasted.

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It had been a couple of weeks since the events in the club with Mom and Anna, and I had thought about it every night for the first week, shooting my load into socks, towels, and other places. That's right, I masturbate. I mean, I could just walk down the hall to Anna's room and get a nice long blowjob, I'm sure, but with Macy in the room next door and Ted across the hall with Mom, I didn't dare try. Instead, I'd just ease my tension with a little one on one.

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She was so drunk. She thought the girls that brought her along were her friends, but they weren't. If they were, they'd have never let me drag her away from the fire. I was a gatecrasher. I hadn't expected to be at any party, I didn't really know too many people in this city apart from my house-mates. I work at a local drive-through liquor store. Late one night a bunch of immature, loud-mouthed lads came through and told us about a beach party they were going to.

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In my 30s, I worked for a company in the east coast for several years. During the time, I met a young woman named Bonnie. She was a Chinese in her early 20s and an entry level staff at our company. We had some occasional flirting, but most of the time we kept it professional, especially with the fact that I was her supervisor. However, that all changed one drunken evening on a business trip. We both had a little too much to drink and wrecked each other in my hotel room that night.

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After three days of the sales conference, Steve was sick. Sick of giant pieces of paper stuck to the wall covered with vague, ridiculous words regarding goals and mission, sick of pointless team building exercise but mostly sick of long evenings spent with amateur drinkers who felt free to let loose, particularly since they were far away from home in the French Quarter of New Orleans.

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Jenny and Tim were in bed after a long, tiring day of shopping and visiting family. Jenny was wearing a matching pair of blue shorts and camisole, while Tim wore only his boxers Jenny's head was resting on Tim's shoulder as they watched TV. They talked about the day and eventually were telling each other stories from their childhood about various family members.

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Standing at the bar, she glances at her watch. 'Maybe another hour,' she thinks to herself. The music is loud and she can feel the beat all through her body, making her hips move slightly back and forth as she waits for her drink to arrive. Three men stand about ten feet away, talking and watching her as she stands there in her tall black boots and short skirt. She glances their way and they all smile, making no effort to hide what they're thinking.

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"Holy shit, Tori. Look at that!" My friend Ben nudged me and nodded his head in the direction of the pretty brunette walking our way. I had been having fun flashing a few of the male shoppers in the mall. It was a common noontime practice for me, even when Ben was with me.

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I had my eye on her from the moment she moved into the apartment building down from mine. She had turned around and her bubble butt stuck out as she leaned over in her car to retrieve a box from her SUV. From my window, I figured out her schedule and the people who visited her. I rumbled through the trash she had dropped off at the dumpster and found a lot of interesting information, like her full name was Anne Walsh, where she worked, and how much she got paid.

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