Your erotic stories

"I told you NOT to run by the pool, young lady." I looked up from my position on the wet concrete. It wasn't the best position to be in, especially considering that Matt Shepherd, the city's hottest lifeguard, was standing over me, one leg on both sides...if I sat up, my mouth would be at his crotch.

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She noticed him now that he was a young man, and after a year of college and almost nineteen, a sleek and muscular one at that. She began following more than just his performance in swim meets at the club. Observed giggling girls and more composed young women, some married as she was and some with children, both older and younger, follow him with their eyes secreted behind glossy magazines and then slide into the pool to cool off after their thoughts turned as humid as the summer day.

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There is a framed, color photograph resting on one of the built-in shelves in the living room of my 5th floor apartment. Everyone who visits me here in downtown Baltimore pauses to pick it up and look. There are nine bare-chested guys in the photo, all in their late teens or early 20s, standing beside each other, outstretched arms over arms, on a bright sunny beach, their backs to the Atlantic surf. They are all thick, hard-muscled and deeply tanned. And all wearing identical fire-engine red swim trunks with the words "Kill Devil Hills Lifeguard Service" emblazoned on the right leg.

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Although I had a fair amount of sexual partners during my first year of college, I had to admit that I had never imagined this would happen. Along with my fraternity brothers, Phil, Joey, I was in an older woman's apartment. She was naked and straddling Joey as he lay on her sofa. His hard-on was in her cunt. Phil stood to the side, had a fist of her hair in his hand and was pumping his cock down her willing throat.

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