Your erotic stories

Jan sat on the side of the bed in her robe rubbing the side of her face and silently cried while Matt took a shower in the other room. He returned shortly and looked down at his wife; the tears running down her face. The anger that masked his face sent dread into her heart. "Just stop it or I'll really give you something to cry about!" he yelled at her. "I'm not a fag like Steve next door.

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Chad, breathing easily and looking mighty fine for a man of thirty-seven, ended his run at his usual bench beside a tool house in the remote Myrtle Beach park tucked into a golf course almost within sight of the ocean enough for most not to realize it was a separate public park. As usual, he ran in just athletic shorts and running shoes.

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Even though my new roommate was straight, he never had any problem with me being gay. In fact, from the start I think he was intrigued by it. More and more he was hanging out with my gay friends and acting totally comfortable among them, unlike many other straights guys I've known. Brian was a freshman and was assigned as my roommate after my old one dropped out of school.

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I heard my name being called out from the midst of the teeming horde pressing in on the barriers after customs in New Delhi's Indira Gandhi international airport, and a head and arm waving a sign was bouncing up and down over the tumult. The sign the young man was carrying said "Clifford Jenkins" with "New York" written under it. That was me. But I wasn't being met by anyone that I knew of.

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The next-to-the-last weekend had now descended for the gang at Spirit Lake before summer ended and we scattered again to our respective colleges and "whatever" activities. Giddiness was high, which is saying something for the group of friends from the affluent Atlanta uptown district of Buckhead, but we'd been on the other edge of giddy every weekend we'd come down to the lake.

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I had only heard about The Cavern, on and off through the years in chat rooms. The stories were of a place a guy could go for stress relief by other guys. Between the continuing curiosity and a terrible state of horniness, my time to find out had finally arrived.

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"Micah." I groaned slightly at the sound. "Micah, wake up," a voice sang to me. I groaned again, louder this time. "Micah, babe, you can't stay asleep all day," the sing-song voice chided me, "you have to wake up now." "It's Sunday," I mumbled in protest.

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We broke up for a lot of reasons, Angela and I, as people always do. It was the laundry that triggered it. We must have squabbled over the laundry at least a dozen times before, but for whatever reason, this time the proverbial camel collapsed under the pressure. I'd been putting through load after load, trying to get through it all before she got home from work, hoping she'd appreciate coming home to a tidier living space.

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I rolled back over and surveyed the body stretched out beside me. He was lying on his back, panting slightly, his legs still spread and knees bent. The pillow not yet out from underneath the small of his back. He gave me a wan smile, wrapped a hand around my neck, and drew me in for a kiss, barely giving me time to take the joint from my mouth that I had turned to take a drag from. We shared the smoke from the reefer in the kiss.

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I strolled through the local park, one warm April evening. It was just getting dark, and the path was clear in front of me. There was enough light for me to finish my circle and head for home. I usually jogged for exercise, or took a trip to the gym, and it showed. But I enjoyed a pleasant walk as well.

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