Your erotic stories

The scent of cooked turkey still lingered in kitchens across America and the shops and stores were already decorated for Christmas; the coffee shop where Carol sat being no exception. Disconsolately sipping her latte, she didn't feel in a very celebratory mood. The promise of employment that had motivated her to leave home and move to the city hadn't materialized and now she was homesick, low on funds and still job hunting.

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Miss Annabelle Nella was a high school teacher who really enjoyed her job and loved teaching her senior class. It was, for her, great to give all the students one last piece of education before sending them off to college, where many she hoped, would make something of themselves and enter the real world off to a great start.

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"What'll wear?" I called out as I emerged from the bathroom. I had made all the preparations. Shaved legs and pussy, all hairless and nice and smooth. "Something sexy," Rob called back from the lounge. We were going to our first swinger's party. Oh, we'd swung many times before, twosomes, threesomes, foursomes and moresomes, but we'd never actually been to a party. You know what I mean, where you actually hardly know anybody. Well, this was going to be a party where we didn't know anyone!

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Lori dreamed about Amber again that night. In her dream, she didn't feel afraid at all. Amber was sitting on the edge of the dock in the warm afternoon sunlight, looking like she could inspire an entire Renaissance all by herself, and Lori walked up and sat down next to her like it was the most natural thing in the world.

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The bass is hard. The temperature is hot. "Bar in the front, dancing in the middle, pool in the back...thankfully Aussie pubs aren't much different from American bars." I don't really attract that much attention until I open my mouth and order a coke. Then every eye is on the American with the weird accent ordering a decidedly "wimpy" drink. I shake off the stares with a smile as I peel my glasses off.

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QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Part of the 'Butt Monkey' series of stories by Robert Furlong === I arrived at my office the next day to find an envelope on my desk with my name written on it in neat, if rather florid, handwriting. It read "Robert" which was slightly odd because everyone at work calls me Rob.

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The muscles in her arm are stronger than they look. Then again, so are the muscles in my thighs. And our tongues. You only find those things out by working them. And we did...a lot. Our lungs, our throats, our lips, eyes, backs, fingers (especially our fingers)...they all got quite the workout. And that was just the first night!

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She was 5'5" in sneakers and had legs for miles. Creamy white skin dotted with freckles stretched over a small frame and topped with flaming red hair, she was every boy's wet dream. And on Fridays, when she wore that cheerleader's uniform, she was half the girls' wet dream, too.

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