Your erotic stories

I sipped my beer as I sat at a table in the bar, casually looking out over Loch Lomond. I had some documents in front of me, on the table, but I was rapidly getting bored. I knew what I was going to talk about when I met my clients in the morning. I had my power point presentation ready and I was confident I could deliver it. I put a paper down and looked out the window again.

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It was a Friday night, early and nice out; just nice enough for a trip down South Street by' myself. I loved coming down here in general but it was almost' always so much better when I was alone. Sometimes, I would walk around for a bit, and then take a trip down to the river and sit there for a while.

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Frigid rain falls steadily from a leaden sky as the train pulls into Union Station in Portland. Even the dreary weather cannot keep Tigger from bouncing up and down on the edge of his seat. It's a habit he's had all his life. As a child his mother teased him that he was bouncier than a rubber ball. His liveliness had earned him his nickname.

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I don't claim to speak for all cock suckers but what I'm about to reveal isn't going to come as a surprise to those who have given this subject any thought at all. Married cock suckers, in general have a guilt complex! That's right. If you think about it why would a normal, healthy, married man actively seek out men to "service"? Something is rotten in Denmark.

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It all started a few weeks ago while I sat in a bar after a long day of searching through the want ads. "How's it going?" said the clean headed muscle man who sat down next to me. "Not the best," I said, looking up from the paper. "I've been slogging around town all morning, looking for a job."

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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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As the family wagon pulled into a small truck stop in the middle of nowhere, Jack's father turned to him and his mother. "Who else is hungry? " They had been driving across state to visit family and were now heading back home again. The problem is that it's a long drive and Jacks iPod ran out of battery a long time ago.

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One warm Saturday morning in June I decided on a shopping trip to Birmingham, a drive of around 60 miles. The journey, which I had made many times before, was pleasant and uneventful in the sunshine. On arrival I parked my car in the open-air public car park, threw my jacket into the boot and walked towards the road leading up to the shopping centre.

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"I think we can dispense with these," he said, casting off his human visage. I followed suit, and we both took a few moments to stretch our wings, swish our tails and stamp our broad clawed feet, feeling the life pour back into our neglected bodies. We were the only two of our kind on Earth, and it was rare that we got an opportunity to relax into our native forms.

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This actually happened to me tonight on my commute from work. Well, everything up to the characters getting off the bus, anyway. The rest is a fantasy. I wrote it all in a burst after getting home, so it might be a little rough, but maybe it has the immediacy of what was going through my mind. Your comments or private message are always welcome.

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