Your erotic stories

"I think he's signaling to you, sugar." I'd stopped to talk to the two guys who regularly positioned themselves at the corner of 4th Street Northwest in Albuquerque and the alley in which I temporarily resided in a cardboard carton. I hadn't been there long following a relocation from Las Vegas and, although I'd found some work as a gofer on a high-rise construction project downtown, I didn't have near enough funds yet to rent a room—or even to have three squares a day.

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My prolonged good-bye began on the first day of summer. That wasn't the day of the accident. That had happened two days before. But it wasn't until the first day of summer that the doctors came into my hospital room to tell me that Jamal would recover but might be paralyzed for life from the waist down because of the injury to his back.

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She lay, elbow on the bed, head propped on her hand looking down at him. It was impossible, and yet it had happened. Here was the living proof lying beside her and the sperm she could feel in her vagina and the bed redolent of their coupling. He was asleep now and she reached out and touched his light brown hair as if to reassure herself that he really was there. Then she touched his penis, still warm, wet and sticky with their mingled fluids.

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She couldn't believe she was here. As Jan's car sped down the highway, she was lost in the world of her own thoughts. Why did she agree to meet a total stranger? How did she let Sandy talk her into this? Did she really intend to have sex with this man she never met? But a quick look at her clothes revealed the intentions she had in her heart.

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