Your erotic stories

It was a Wednesday night, which was two for one rental night at the local adult video store. I picked out a couple of European titles from my favorite director. His films usually featured exotic locales, stunning eastern European babes, and lots of anal. I brought the empty cases up to the till, and the clerk moved over to the drawer where the actual DVDs were stored and retrieved them. I completed the transaction in the usual fashion; minimal words, averted gaze, the slightest tinge of embarrassment for being in the shop in the first place. 

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We had chatted several times online, exchanging pleasantries and stats. We cybered a little, "feeling" each other out in regards to likes and fantasies. We didn't bother exchanging pics, who knew if what you saw was really who you were trying to see. So now, here I was driving out to meet this guy, sight unseen, seeking to live out a mutual fantasy of sex outdoors. At least, I thought to myself, he doesn't know me any better than I know him. But the taboo thought of meeting this stranger out under the stars and fucking the night away had me hard as a rock and hungry for cum.

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I have a huge problem. I'm 22, 6'1, 175 lbs., with light brown hair and grey eyes. I'm a college student at a prestigious university, and I'm studying psychology. I'm an honor student, and I'm an athlete. I work out, play baseball, lacrosse, and basketball, and I'm in very good shape. My parents are rich, so I've never really had to worry about money.

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The name's Piper. Peter Piper. But I don't pick pecks of pickled peppers. I solve cases. I'm a private dick. That's a detective for those of you who don't know the lingo. A private eye. It was a miserable Friday afternoon. Cold, damp, foggy. The weather was foul. And so was my mood. My bank account was dwindling at an alarming pace. I hadn't had a case in weeks. I was sitting behind my battered desk in my shabby office on the second floor of the Burke building, downtown. Way downtown. I was sitting there and I was worrying. If something didn't happen soon, I was in deep shit. I had bills to pay.

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Sunday with David. My name is Jason. I met David surfing the internet and using the chat rooms. It was probably the most significant time of my life when, at last I raised the courage to meet him. At first exchanging on the internet was like a bit of fun. Looking back it is simply unbelievable what guys do on there with the aid of skype.

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As abbot of a monastery I sometimes need to add new monks to the fold. Our previous prior was replaced by my male lover Matthew. Matthew was our computer guru and I needed another monk to fill a position. Coming to a monastery isn't like in the old days. I need people who can serve a purpose and have modern days skills in a field. I spoke to Matthew and he asked who I was going to bring in.

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We had known one another for about a year on that hot summers night, when I was just relaxing in the house, hanging out with Cathy and sitting in the garden drinking wine. Six of us were due to start sharing a student house in the Autumn of 2003. We'd all met in halls, all got along and decided to not go for the more intimate house shares, the twos and threes, of some of our friends, but instead to rent a large, six bedroomed "party house" in the middle of the town.

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Sometimes, I couldn't stand my father. I believed it was his fault my mom killed herself. He was gorgeous and he could have anyone he wanted, and so he did. He cheated on her all the time. Men, women, she-males. And he would bring them home since mom died, not caring I was in the house. He was the dominate type, I would hear them begging for him, he told them too. I wouldn't be surprised if I had siblings out there I never knew of.

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Brad lay staring into the dark, looking at an invisible ceiling while listening to a strange man's slow rhythmical breathing and wishing he were back home in his own bed with his gorgeous girlfriend. Instead of that he was sharing an anonymous hotel room with a total stranger, one who just happened to work for the same company as he did.

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The follwing story is a work of fiction, based on facts from my life. The names of all parties have been changed to protect their "innocence". "Hey Jim, you need anything from Supply while I'm down there?" "Naw, I'm good Marv, thanks anyway." I headed down the hall to the elevators so I could get to Supply. It was Thursday, and I was winding up some details so my weekend wouldn't be interrupted by any calls from the office.

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