Your erotic stories

#2- Milk Maid Adam had been called to the South Pole with less than a day's notice. "It's a once in a lifetime chance," he'd said sadly, "If I don't do it now it'll never happen." It was likely a good thing there wasn't much time to talk about it -- to debate the pros and cons. Still, Violet found herself standing at the airport in a state of shock -- a one-month-old baby on her hip and the love her life en route to spend six months at the coldest place on Earth in a location where even email was barely available, let alone the internet.

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My name is Dylan, and I'm a rapist...or at least I thought I was. Lying there in the dark, pretending to be asleep and listening for the tell-tale crackle of a police walkie-talkie from outside my apartment door, I wondered if Samantha was still in her bedroom. Wondered if she'd called the cops to tell them her roommate had raped her, or if she'd fled the apartment and was banging on our neighbors' doors, desperately trying to find someone who'd help her.

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Laura swung her hips back and forth as the music resonated in the small office. She spun around on her three inch black leather heels like a seasoned stripper, reaching for the back of a chair to balance herself as she bent over thrusting her gorgeous slim, tight ass upwards and towards him. The top buttons of her blouse were undone and the black lace of her bra was visible between the white silk fabric of the blouse as she continued her sexy striptease.

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Well, today is the big day! Stacy thinks the moment she wakes up. She blinks her baby blues open to see the streaks of sunlight across her room. The walls are bare and all of her stuff is piled around the room in cardboard moving boxes. Today, Stacy moves out of her parent's house to begin college. She stretches and hops out of bed. The smell of her mother's breakfast is prominent throughout the house. Stacy heads downstairs.

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INTRODUCTION The summer I was sent to Mountain Farm, I was in my late teens (19). A had for a couple of years already been soiling the sheets with my nightly juices almost every night and my attention to schoolwork and helping out at home had become more and more distracted by my growing and constantly aching cock and balls. The actual trigger was when my mother surprised me twice one afternoon when I was happily stroking my member in the family bathroom but had forgotten to lock the door.

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As might be expected, dinner that evening at the DeVries household was somewhat awkward. Christopher picked hesitantly at his pasta, not trusting his stomach. He just couldn't settle down. His heart would palpitate for twenty minutes at a stretch, and just as he'd start to relax he'd think of the delights he might earn in the next few months, and the whole process began again. He was getting exhausted just sitting.

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Paul had a little trouble finding Kaylee's apartment building and he was almost twenty minutes late by the time he finally reached her door. It was bad enough being flustered by having taken a wrong turn while following the directions he had been given but, as he pressed the doorbell, he discovered he was distinctly nervous indeed. Kaylee's website specified several massage specialties but, although the text was suitably noncommittal and vague, it was clear that they were all of the more erotic variety.

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It was tradition among our friends to camp out in Jake's backyard at least once every summer. Jake had a giant tent, with three rooms and two closets. The first time we ever set it up it took us two hours. Working under the hot summer sun, joking and sweating, we were confident and untouchable. We were seniors this year, nearing maturity, working out every chance we had. Needless to say, we were very in shape.

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"Jesus!" I bleated in my wife's ear while watching her best friend, Melissa, pull her husband's giant cock out of his shorts. They were only a few feet away from us, snuggling up on the couch across from our own, but tonight they were taking their exhibitionism to new heights. Melissa and Tommy had come over to hang out, something we've done countless times before, but, tonight things got a little heated, and it all seemed to start before I even got home from work.

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It all started when Tom broke his finger. He was helping to move some of his elderly Father's furniture when the middle finger of his right hand got caught between the shelf he was carrying and the door frame. A quick trip to the hospital and Tom's middle finger was in a brace.

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