Your erotic stories

So there I was again, hanging out in my favourite pub on a busy Saturday night, talking to my buddy Zack, half-focused on him, half-focused on finding a good-looking guy to take home and fuck into oblivion. Yeah, I knew Zack wanted me, and the truth is that I wanted him, too, but neither one of us had ever acted on it. My rationale was: why ruin a perfectly good friendship just because a wet spot formed on my thong whenever I was around him?

read more