Your erotic stories

"Gimme a little taste," he whispers. I give him an are-you-sure look. The road we are on turns and twists with the coastline; beautiful to look at, treacherous for those types of games. But he's had his hand in my jeans for the last quarter mile. At first he'd had to coax, but he knows just where to touch, and just how to press. Now I was wide open to him, responsive to every touch, deliberate in every returned caress.

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