Your erotic stories

Ch. 01 The Awakening Debbie just stared. She couldn't believe her eyes. There, on the bathroom floor in front of her, was her big sister Julie, naked. Underneath her was Heather, Debbie's best friend, also naked. "Deb, I--we--it's not what it looks like!" Heather stuttered, trying to shake the look of shock off her best friend's face.

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I struggled not to run home from school. It would arrive and day now and just the thought caused my heartbeat to quicken. Typically I got the mail before my mother, so I was not too concerned that she might discover it. If she did, I had a good excuse prepared, a reaction which I had practiced many times, for why an 18-year old boy would receive such a thing.

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WARNING: If you are not 18 or older, please leave this page immediately. Incest—a word that has extreme negative connotations. The image that most often comes about when the word is mentioned is that of a father forcing himself on his daughter. Any forcible sex act, especially done by a parent to a child, should result in the parent being punished in legal and non-legal ways.

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Funny it happened when we tried "The Invisible Man." I've always wondered about that. Everybody's tried auto-blow, bending into a pretzel, trying to suck your own cock. Everybody's tried it, especially when younger. A flexible guy like my Chuck-o can lie back, roll his hips up, bring his feet back over his head, knees to his chest, and get his own dick down between his lips. Gives himself a blowjob.

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Brooke II: Finding Allison entered the bedroom, reached for the buttons of her blouse and whispered, "Cool." The young woman strutted as if she owned the room. She peeled off her top and short denim skirt, and circled the bed in nothing but a dampened thong. Her blue eyes flashed and her straight brunette hair steamed behind. The lean body dripped sexuality. At that moment Allison did own the room.

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On the morning of my 30th birthday, I ran through the hospital doors to the desk, found out Dad's room number, and rushed to him. He was sitting up in the bed, not looking too much the worse for wear, actually. I peppered him with worried questions, but he tut-tutted the whole thing. "Just bad stomach. Something I ate."

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Maria knocked loudly on her son's bedroom door. "Matthew? Wake up! You have to get up and get ready for Mass." Matthew's muffled voice came through the door. "I'm not going to Mass, Mom." Maria's eyes shot up. We'll just see about that, she thought. She wrapped her fingers around the knob, twisted, and swung open the door.

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I stood in front of my Dad, head hanging in shame. In my senior year of high school, just about to graduate, I still lived at home and probably would all through college and until I got a good job. And during all that time, Daddy would control me. Today, I was in serious trouble.

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"My name is Nario. You are Mr. Armstead?" "Yes. I was expecting my uncle." "He could not come. I am his boy." Yes, I'll just bet you are, I thought. But then he clarified, if not enough to make a difference to me. "I am his houseboy. Welcome to Naples, Mr. Armstead." "Call me Harry, Please. Is it far from here to Positano?"

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Shea was trapped! Her mom and stepdad were going on vacation for the next two weeks. She had to stay with her dad who lived too far away for her to hook up with her boyfriend. After that, her boyfriend would be gone for two weeks while his family went on vacation. That meant a whole month without seeing Eric. It was hell.

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