Your erotic stories

Christine Hawkins was twenty-two and a student of accounting at the local college in Crompton, Surrey, England. She was popular with the main student body there. She was active in most of the college activities and was a natural leader. She had no boyfriend. She was lesbian. She was proud of that fact and was active in gay rights. This brought her into conflict with the local vicar, Reverend Tom Greenwood, an old- fashioned cleric, who, in Christine's eyes, was anti everything Christine stood for, especially gay and lesbian rights.

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"I don't understand what she sees in him," said Michael, already feeling depressed at the thought of spending an evening with his arch nemesis, Nick. "I know Michael. But... she's been my best friend forever and as long as she's happy, then... what can we do?"

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Her heartbeat pounds out a familiar rhythm as she waits in the dark, stretched silently across the mattress like an offering, knowing he's on his way. The sensation of her pulse is primal. She's tried to fill the long desolate stretch of daylight hours, anticipation rising with the setting of the sun. A few more hours, a few more mundane tasks, a little more self control. It's a mountain she climbs daily, the precipice of which she now balances on, waiting alone in the tangle of blankets.

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Chapter 1 – Susan's typical life In a small town in a typical suburb, Susan was busily getting her family ready. She was just finishing sizzling up the bacon for the morning breakfast as her two children, Joseph and Michelle, were just sitting down for their food. Her husband, Brian, ran by her grabbed some bacon and ran out the door. "Late as usual" she thought to herself.

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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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Strangely, my wife did not throw me out of the house after catching me in the middle of two hard cocks at the annual Firefighter's picnic. I tried to talk to her about it, but she would just smile enigmatically and say she wasn't sure how she felt about it yet. In the meantime, she was perfectly pleasant with me, if a tiny bit aloof. After a few weeks, I started thinking that maybe the other shoe would never actually drop. The only fly in the ointment was that she was "too tired" for the next three weeks. We had had gaps like that before, though, and I wasn't going to push it.

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Kate was feeling a bit awkward. She didn't view herself as an anti-social person, but parties really weren't here thing. She was fine with people one on one, but had difficulty integrating into groups. The fact that she didn't really know anyone other than Nathaniel made it especially difficult for her. She felt bad about clinging to his side, but was too nervous to leave it and be surrounded by complete strangers. Even with a few drinks in her, she just couldn't seem to let her guard down and meet new people.

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I don't know how the hell I got involved in that card game with Dave and his drinking buddies. Well no, I do know how, I just continually ask myself why! Dave lives down the corridor in the student halls at the university I attend. Though I guess he's not really bad looking, I'd never found him attractive. He had a kind of know-it-all attitude that just always pissed me off.

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She sat with a glass of red wine listening to slow instrumental songs. She was remembering the past with her ex-girlfriend, Pria, the girl she had arranged to see today. They had quite a fiery relationship, and even though they seemed to hate each other now, they still had a passion between them. Danielle dropped her head into her hands as she sighed deeply, trying to think of how she would handle this conversation.

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I knew it was going to be a challenge to pull my weight when I went into the partnership with Steve and Chuck. They graduated in the top of our law school class; I was somewhere in the bottom half, I think. More relevant to their professional trajectories, they were the stereotypical alpha males: tall, strong, good looking and self-confident to the point of having inflated impressions of their abilities—and their abilities were considerable. These were the crucial ingredients for success in the law—even more than intelligence. And, on top of that, they were hard workers.

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