Your erotic stories

As the group walked down the path in the state park, Jared pulled me aside to look at a flower. As we were bent over, he whispered to me, "I want you to find a reason to get Frenchie alone for a few minutes. When you are out of sight of everyone, I want you to offer him a blowjob, right then and there. The group is going to be stopping by the stream to look for fossils, so you'll have time to catch up. When you get back to us, squeeze my hand twice if you accomplished your mission.

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Shrugging into the jacket of his tuxedo, Jacob smiled hearing the chatter of the crowd that had rapidly gathered in the parking lot below him in anticipation of the doors of the club opening. Earlier while making his rounds seeing that everything was ready he shook his head glancing outside seeing the wealth of jewelry that flashed and the vibrant colors of the couture clothing the women were sporting as they clung to the arms of their tuxedo clad gentlemen.

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Her head bends reverently forward to rest on his knee. His hand is eager to stroke the light brown locks that fall covering her reflective green eyes. Her eyes are his to see or to cover at his desire. For a moment he wishes to see her sparkling eyes and the gentle smile that so gently curves her soft lips, but not for long.

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Her heart started leaping in her chest as she turned into his driveway, the full throaty throb of the Ducati between her legs vibrating rhythmically as she let it roll up the gravel to the front of his house. As she shut the dark black machine down, she heard the sweet silence of her surroundings for the first time and took off her helmet to look around.

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It had been a long night out with the girls and most of us were sober enough to call a cab and then Betsy starts talking about fantasies. "Men always have some fantasy they insist we try, am I right?" I nodded, as did Samantha, Alana and Jenna as Betsy continued to regale us with her latest pontification.

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I looked down at the text and my cock began to stir... My girlfriend Michele was my first college crush. One look at her and I was a goner. She was a petite, little thing, cute as a button, with long blonde hair and small, perky breasts with nipples that stood up firm to the touch. Her penetrating brown eyes looked right into your soul.

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I feel ridiculous; underdressed and overly aware of how much glitter is on my face. "Come out," Maddy had said. "It'll be fun," Tiff had said. "It'll be good for you," Amber had added. "You have to get out of that dark dungeon of despair you've condemned yourself too," I had said to myself.

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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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1. When she was nineteen, two bandits dressed-up as Indians killed Molly Sheridan's father and her three younger brothers, and burned their ranch. They carried her off, but hadn't tied her hands properly, perhaps because they'd got so drunk, perhaps only because they didn't imagine she could give them any trouble, bound or no. Thus as they were riding, she was able to get hold of one of their pistols, and shoot the men dead.

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When you're a Villain, there are certain things you sign up for. The risk of arrest, the risk of getting shot by police, the risk of getting hunted and severely beaten up by heroes. The risk of what happens when your secret identity is uncovered. The risk of other Villains hunting you for their own ends. Oh yes, don't believe that only Heroines get hunted, trapped and put through slave training by Villains. Villains get it worse.

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