Your erotic stories

I was on a flight from Vancouver to San Francisco feeling restless and I was anxious to get back home. I tried to get some writing done on the plane, but I couldn't concentrate. There was a father with his young son in the seat behind me constantly crying and kicking my seat. I tried to type, but my energy was gone, so I just stared at the blank screen in front of me.

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Susan Jackson, Anne's friend was a bored eighteen-year-old horny senior. She was tired of the pawing hands of her male classmates who all wanted her to suck their cocks and fuck but had no idea about how to please a girl. They thought a lick at her crotch was all a girl wanted before being fucked for three minutes. What Susan wanted was an adventure: a loving experience that she could treasure, not some quick fuck in the back seat of some sweaty boy's car.

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Kurt was not the most handsome man on the planet. But he was a kindhearted soul who was always willing to help out his fellow human being, male or female, and always felt for the underdog. For the former reason, people liked him and enjoyed his company. For the latter reason, Kurt felt sympathy for the girls in the secretarial pool, and would always go out of his way to make things easier for them or praise their work. They really worked their buns off and received little thanks or appreciation for it.

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I yawned. I was bored and too hot. The lecture I was in was dull and I hoped it would end soon. I felt so sleepy and I was itching to get out. I sat there restlessly staring at the screen as the lecturer droned on listlessly. My feet sweaty in my converse, as I flexed them around inside my shoes.

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I recall the exact moment when I realised that my friend John's girlfriend, who's name is Emma, had fantastic, sexy little feet. We were out shopping; we being myself, Jim Hodges and a few others. Those being John, Emma and my girlfriend at the time, Joanna. Joanna and I finished that very night to be honest, but she's not really an integral part of the story anyway.

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Not long after graduating from college with my bachelors, I moved into a house with some of my frat brothers for about two years. I was lucky enough to find a great job that I knew from the start would lead to bigger things if I worked hard enough. The hours were limited, however, so I found myself with more free time on my hands than I wished for.

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When I first came to terms with the fact I was attracted to women, I did the typical thing. Internet porn was in its infancy, but I was a teenager with nothing but time to learn. I bought magazines as well, flipped through the bare, enhanced, airbrushed breasts and landing strip pussies, and never really got that thrill. I knew I liked women, but these... mutants barely registered on that scale. "Feather your hair, open your eyes as wide as possible, smile wide. Wider. Okay, now, pretend like you're playing baseball and you forgot your uniform pants. Perfect!"

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She came into his shoe store a few minutes before closing time. It had been a tough day and he was tired. He was about to snap at her, something cold and impersonal like, "Lady, the store closes in 5 minutes." But there was a way she walked that caught his attention and made him stand straight. She was a petite woman, barely 5 feet tall. She carried herself with a quiet confidence and radiant sexuality. And maybe it was because she was wearing a short leather skirt that hugged her hips, and a skimpy form fitting leather vest on top, nothing underneath.

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I was bored in a lecture staring at the screen hoping Dr Allen would finish his droning on. I played with my flats dangling them of one foot then the other not really thinking about the lecture. As I copied down a few words I returned to zoning out thinking of going into town to buy some stuff afterwards.

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Sarah stood in the shade of the thatch-roofed picnic shelter, sipping on a diet coke as she spitefully contemplated how her weekend had been completely ruined. After two continuous weeks of stressful work, she had been relishing this much needed weekend to herself. That was until Friday night, when a dreaded phone call from her cheerily coercive mother had ended all her hope of relaxation.

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