Your erotic stories

Aidan studied himself critically in the full-length mirror. He had inherited from his much-missed mother high cheek-bones, fine bone structure full, pouting lips and a slender physique. Raising his arms he performed a slow pirouette. There was only the lightest of dusting of hair under his arms. His body was smooth, his chest adorned with two large chocolate discs which haloed caramel nipples. A few dark wisps led from his navel to a modest nest that framed his sex.

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Comment by the author: I received quite a few requests for this sequel, and meant to have it written ages ago, but mid-writing I went into a bit of a slump. But now I have finally finished it! Sorry for the wait, and hope it's to your liking! "Beware the woods at night... beware the lunar light." ~ from the song "Wolf Moon" by Type O Negative

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Going to try for a long chapter after this one. The events I've written for now aren't really conducive to length without getting overly tedious. Thanks to those people who submitted comments. I really appreciate the input. Lastly, I've been told my transition between perspectives could use a little work, so any tips or suggestions there would be phenomenal.

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I want to say a quick thanks for all the response I got on the first chapter and sorry for the long delay in between these chapters. It's a story that's been in my head for a while and I just wanted to get some of it out of my brain and into the world. I started writing it all out of order and have been very slow in getting the pieces all connected how I want them. I'm hoping there won't be quite as much downtime between chapters from here on out...

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The rain was pouring down as Jeff's car pulled up by my building. The water pounded against the roof of the car and slithered down the windows like liquid snakes. People were hurrying past on the street, huddled under umbrellas. I pulled out my keys from my pocket and grabbed my bag which had been resting on the seat next to me. Matt, sitting on the passenger seat, turned around to look at me.

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Peter Grandon sat moodily in his dorm room staring at his literature textbook and studying for finals. He had read the same passage four times and he still couldn't tell what the paragraph meant. His mind was elsewhere.

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First I want to say thank you to those people who posted and sent me messages. I know there weren't very many of you, but this only got written because of you. It really is amazing how much your small messages mean. That being said, I'd like to apologize for this entry taking so long and not being as long as it could have been. As usual, any comments on my writing, good or bad, are wonderful to hear so please feel free to comment.

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