Your erotic stories

I stood in front of my Dad, head hanging in shame. In my senior year of high school, just about to graduate, I still lived at home and probably would all through college and until I got a good job. And during all that time, Daddy would control me. Today, I was in serious trouble.

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Liam knew he owned the school. He was the best football player this small local college had seen in years and there was even talk of him trying to go pro. He had his pick of all the girls on campus; life was good. Except for one little problem. His US History professor was tough. He didn't even help the athletes out. In the tiny town in the south, most of the athletes were white, so there was no talk of any racial discrimination by this professor, but he discriminated against guys who were young, talented, handsome and played sports.

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When I was 18 years old, in my senior year at a Catholic school for girls, my dad caught me on the street with my parochial school uniform's skirt pulled up a few extra inches so that it uncovered my legs to get the attention of boys. A lot of girls at my school did that after school. He is very strict. He is Sicilian.

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I grabbed her from behind and she screamed -- "Wha --Mmmm!" -- before I gagged her with my hand and crushed my other around her waist, pinning her left arm to her side. I could feel the softness of her white terry cloth bathrobe through my sweatpants and black turtle neck shirt. God, she felt amazing, and I wondered if she could feel my own heart hammering in my chest as much as my nine inch hard-on pressing against her ass.

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Sitting at the gate reading my book, my name was called to the podium. Since I hadn't placed my name on any waitlists, I was more than a little mystified. I placed the book back in my workbag, and walked up to the podium. "Ms Montgomery, there is a problem with your checked bag," the gate agent said. The poor girl was terrified, trying to maintain a seriousness about her.

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It was supposed to be a straight forward assignment. Jimmy occasionally did some camera work to help out the local paper when their regular photographer was busy, or to collect background shots for local stories. The editor had told him this one was quite simple. The local gym was on a membership drive and had arranged for him to do a story on them. Jimmy was to wander along that evening to take some snaps of one of the women's fitness sessions.

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His hand pushed down against my spine, holding me flat to the mattress. As I turned my head to look round at him he thrust downwards, pressing me deeper into the springs. My heart thudded heavily. For a moment I was so intently aware of the air against my exposed skin, the shock of cool hitting wet that I shivered. It drew a groan from him. A low and desperate sound.

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Tyler and Johnson walked into the holding cells as soon as they had their orders. There, in the largest cell, Tyler saw her as she stood proudly with hands on hips. She was gorgeous, there was no doubt. Certainly the hottest, and youngest, enemy agent he had ever seen. He certainly wasn't about to complain about this assignment, or the manner in which he was instructed to carry it out.

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The club is crowded tonight, and hot. The press of bodies, half-naked and gleaming, is a feast. The warm brush of flesh against flesh is a fever. Bodies clashing and rubbing become a furnace fueling my desire. As I make my way to the bar, threading carefully through the throng, my hand touches a shoulder here, a well-muscled chest there, my bottom brushing against the crotch of someone behind me as I squeeze through a small corridor.

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