Your erotic stories

It was a reasonable summer's day for England, the sun was out and it was quite warm. Not warm enough to sunbath by any stretch of the imagination, but it made my 300 mile trip back from University a bit less grim. I am always in a better mood when it is a nice day. I had the radio on singing away. I was wearing a white skirt and a white vest top.. The skirt was well above my knees, not super short, but not massively long either. The vest top stopped just above my navel showing off my belly button piercing which I had had done on my 18th birthday just because I was never allowed one before that.

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Martine looks down the row of women, each one standing perfectly still with their hands behind their head and their elbows just touching the girl next to them on either side. She sees blondes, brunettes, redheads, women of every race and color, a celebration of female beauty. They are all naked, oiled lightly, and each one has the exact same expression of perfect joy on their face.

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"You first encountered the defendant where, Mr. Philips?" "At my gym. We were members of the same gym." I did not want to be here, in this courtroom. But the DA had intimidated me. He had said that they might delve deeper into why I was in Baltimore—why I had left San Diego. I really didn't want them to do that. I had just fallen into it in San Diego.

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This all started because I decided, against all advice, to major in religious studies in college. I know, it sounds like a dumb choice, but it's what I was interested in and I decided to follow my grandmother's advice to pursue my passion rather than the practical choices everyone else thought I should make.

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Linda Jones was in the grocery store picking up a few things when she saw her friend Lisa Miller and her son Tommy. Lisa was supposed to come over later in the afternoon with a few friends for bridge club. "Hi Linda," Lisa called out, waving at her in the produce aisle. "Tommy, you remember Mrs. Jones don't you? Be a good boy and say hello."

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His name was Roland and he was from Jamaica. I'm guessing he was about 30. He had deep ochre skin, eyes that were almost black, closely-cropped hair, and was tall, lean and very graceful. At one point in his life he'd been a dancer, but was now a set designer for one of the larger theater companies in Amsterdam. He was just a little bit effeminate, and overtly gay.

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"What about those two? They look positively scrumptious," Dani whispered to me as we took in the warm Caribbean sunrays, lounging on the beach of our resort in our cabana chairs. Those 'two' were a couple of college-aged guys with ripped abs, bulging speedos and most certainly, cougar-worthy.

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They say you never forget your first time. Although it's been nearly 20 years, I can still remember it well. It was January of 99 and I had just turned 18. 

My parents went out of town to celebrate their anniversary for the weekend, and that meant one thing for me. Busting as many nuts as I could.

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"Come on Jodie. It'll be fun." Heather and Michelle were currently going through a green protest stage. Both just turned twenty, they got a kick out of going out and protesting for various causes. The rights and wrongs weren't really their concern. The chance to protest was the thing.

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The afternoon air was warm, but not unusually so for that time of year. It had been ten minutes since the local highschool had been dismissed for the weekend. Two eighteen year old students were making their way through quiet neighborhoods nearby. Ethan found it extremely difficult to walk properly, even on the smooth, level footpath. A mixture of nervousness and excitement was causing him to over-think every step.

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