Your erotic stories

I do not like to go to company parties. Not Fourth of July, not Christmas, not New Years. Anytime. I just don't like them. They're usually very boring, often embarrassing as people do and say things with careless abandon. Part of my dislike is admittedly my fault -- I don't like to drink alcohol. So as other people are loosening up while getting blitzed, I'm just standing around watching them.

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Her name was Torrie and I fought her before. I easily beat her in a catfight and ended up fucking her in the ass and making her orgasm in front of everybody in the club she danced in. I figured she'd never want to see me again. Imagine my surprise when I got a knock on my door and opened it to find her standing in the hall of my apartment clad only in a black leather overcoat and heels.

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I joined the Navy fresh out of high school. Good paying jobs were tough to find in Western New York. The steel mills were shutting down. Heavy industry was re-locating down south and paying only one third of the previous wages. When my tour of duty was over I took the civil service test for Correction Officer and passed. My permanent assignment was at a Class-A Max, and eventually, I lucked out and got a wall tower on days.

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It's a bit of a librarian look, the way I wear my hair at work. All coiled up on my head, and stuck through with several of those Japanese-looking hair spikes. Not a strand is out of place, and the hair is wound and wrapped tightly into a bun roughly the size of one of those Kaiser rolls the bun it makes is easily the size of one of those Kaiser rolls.

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The next morning I awoke to find myself alone in bed, carefully covered to keep me warm, with the remains of the wig I had been wearing the night before placed on one of the corner posts of the bed. The plastic hairs that we had cut and mangled were cleanly swept up into a pile. I inched my way to the edge of the bed, and climbed out into the chilly morning air. The briskness of it instantly caused my nipples to stiffen, forming hard, naked peaks on my chest.

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The best lovemaking of my life, was the first. When I was eleven years old we moved from the city to the country. My mother's first new friend was a lady from a neighboring farm. She was several years younger than my mother and had three daughters, one a year older than me and the other two younger by one and three years. For the first several years I enjoyed riding bike and doing other kid things with the three daughters but around the time I turned fifteen I started to notice their mother.

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"I cannot stand Cynthia and her more virginal than you attitude," announced Amelia, looking over at where the offender was currently flirting with a couple of boys. "I know what you mean," grumbled Marie. "The way she acts we're all sluts because we're not virgins. Just because we're not virgins doesn't mean we're free and easy. Or that we had any choice in the matter, anyway."

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