Your erotic stories

"Wash up, lazybones, and take those furs to Sir Charles," the tanner ordered. The day's chill turned his breath to a liquor-laden mist. "Sir Charles, Father?" Tanners asked, confused. The tanner rolled his eyes to the heavens. "Oh ye gods, why curse me with such a stupid boy?" He turned to the young man. "The banker, the one whose son you don't like. He's offered three gold for the lot."

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Stretched out on your couch you look so sexy, so confident, and so proud of your masculinity. Your cock is beginning to swell because you know what's coming; we've done this so many times we've lost count. We aren't in a hurry; there is no need to rush. No one knows what we share. I'm seated comfortably across from you, still clothed, gazing at you - your manhood. Drinking in the beauty of your lovely cock!

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My name is Jack. A few days ago, I had sex with my son's friend, Gary. The fact is, I sucked his cock and then he fucked me with his huge member. Gary also told me that he and my son Bobby were also having sex together. I knew I should address this subject with Bobby but I didn't know how. I was frankly embarrassed. Gary basically forced me into sucking and fucking him.

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The muscle car jammed to a stop, pavement ripping into tires, making a shriek only slightly louder than, say, a 13-inch masonry blade tearing through highway concrete. Choking slightly as acrid smoke of burning rubber washed over me, I ran to the driver's window and quickly negotiated a ride.

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Kelly and I were having a night out on the town, just good friends hanging out for each other's company, and for fun. I think it was her who made the suggestion initially, but I was also game, that we should go to a strip club. Now normally I wouldn't go to such a place with a woman, but she told me that she had been before and that this particular place had both male and female strippers, performing seperately.

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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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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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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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Radon and Taylor ran, head down, through the thick filthy sleet. The icy rain had started out as clean white snow, but then it was stained by factory smoke and melted by the roads and buildings it passed. By the time snow got to the Bottom Tier, it was filthy mush that was more dangerous then snow.

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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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