Your erotic stories

My best friend Karl and I grew up together. We've known each other since we were babies. Our mothers were best friends and they got married about the same time and spent all their time together, so I think we were even changed on the same table and took baths together. We did everything together, we had all the same interests.

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Kendra pulled the note out of her pocket and read it again. Kendra, I'm sorry that I've hurt you. What we had was great. But, we both know that it's time to move on. I hope that someday you can look back on this and not hate me.

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The dance music was loud. The club was packed with sweaty bodies, and Karen was thirsty. She moved past gyrating bodies and through entangled couples. The dance club charged a lot for drinks, so she ordered a bottle of water and retreated to a corner. She sipped it and stared out at the dance floor. Karen was a twenty three year old senior in college, finishing up a Masters in communication.

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Author's Note: Thank you for reading my first attempt at writing erotic fiction, "Unlikely Love". This is the first part of the story, so check back for updates. Also, please feel free to leave comments or suggestions; I would really appreciate them. Thank you. Tonight was like any other Friday night; paying off the bouncer to accept my fake idea and grant me access to the popular gay bar/strip club. Not that it was unusual.

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This is the true story of my first time with another man. I was 31 at the time. Since this time, I've had many hot stories I'm hoping to share, but there is always something special about the first time, right? I was in downtown Dallas to for my work, meeting with some clients there. I was in a nice hotel (Hyatt I believe) and after a long day of meetings, I headed downstairs to grab something to eat at the bar.

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Note: Your comments or constructive criticism mean a lot to me. Feel free to leave me a private message if you'd like to share your thoughts, get updates on future chapters or receive a personalized photo of my cock. Statement of veracity: This is a true story. Well, everything up to the break point. I'll leave it to you to guess which of these is the full true story.

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In the early spring moonlight, the back of the river seemed to lift and heave like the body of a snake, flowing over rocks and stumps, braiding its way through copses of saplings on the flooded banks, pooling and forming eddies as it washed around the concrete pilings of the bridges. "What does that remind you of?" I asked her as we drove along. "What does that make you think of?"

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I know it's wrong to look at your little girl and want to be buried inside her tight little pussy, but God help me that's the way my little Kimmi has made me feel for two years now. She's eighteen now and will be graduating high school this June. She is every guys dream. Her strawberry blond hair brushes her shoulders and her green eyes are the color of emeralds and when she's happy they sparkle just like a gem too. Of course when she's mad, they darken to almost black, but she's hardly ever that mad. With one of those happy go lucky attitudes she's such a joy to be around.

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"Redhead by the bar," I nudged Michael. He raised his eyes, found her, then winced. "Too sexy for me?" He nodded, "Too sexy for you," then slowly sipped his soda. "I thought so." She looked again in my direction. I froze, caught staring for the umpteenth time. The first time I noticed her was earlier that night. I was sweeping the pub with my eyes when they landed straight on hers. She smiled, nodded discreetly, and turned away, leaving me confused and embarrassed, as if I had been the one snooping.

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The sky started clouding over as I found the cafe called 'Chances Are' down on Santa Monica Boulevard and pulled in. In 1974, I was nineteen, and had found a man in a swinger's ad magazine, and was here to meet him.

Inside, it was different than any other restaurant I frequented. The clientele was all men, not a woman in sight. I felt a shiver of guilt and fear as I waded into these unknown waters, looking around for a man in a black suede jacket with a large red book. That would be Gary. 

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