Your erotic stories

Mark and I had been conversing for a couple of weeks via e-mail. We had met on a sports related message board and were both bitching about some of the recent trades. That changed when Mark told me he was going to send me something in the next e-mail. It turned out to be a picture of his cock.

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The clock seemed to be stopped, it wasn't. The thought of going to Yesterday's after work was wearing on my mine. The last time I went there I got so drunk that I had to be helped to the car. Not tonight, I hope that Karen meant it when she said Mark wanted us to go to his house after the club.

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