Your erotic stories

She smelled, uhm...fresh! Her scent perfectly matched the floral top she was wearing that afternoon. I just realized that she liked floral dresses and has worn several of them before. Oops...my mind was drifting. I'm right in the middle of a meeting! Alysa Park and I have been in a meeting all afternoon. I was sitting next to her at the client's boardroom and couldn't help but notice that she seemed a bit pale and not her usual bubbly self.

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"I'm early," she discreetly whispered to me as we stood up to welcome our friends who had just come through the restaurant doors and saw me waving to catch their attention. I didn't really have time to process her statement before our friends, Rob and Amy, approached our table to greet us. My first thought was confusion, and perhaps I misheard her. Our friends were right on time, and even if they had been early, it really wouldn't have mattered.

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Man spilling blood in honourable, woman spilling blood is unclean, what logic is that? I am Rohan. I am nineteen. I am in the second year of my bachelor degree course in engineering in a college near the extreme southern tip of India. My family consists of my father, a retired accountant from the revenue department, my mother, a housewife, and my elder sister. Her name is Sarala, but as I am younger I cannot call her by name. I call her Akka, which in the Tamil language means elder sister. She is 23 years old. After graduation she is at home waiting for marriage.

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She had come to pray. That was all. Now she was on her knees, gagging on Father O'Reilly's cock. It was so thick. When he had brushed aside his robes, a hot, red slab of meat with bulging veins was revealed and pressed to her lips. "I've been listening to you say your prayers. Why don't you say the Our Father, Ashley?" he asked, still pressing the head of his cock against her smooth lips.

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It had been almost eight years since we had said our goodbyes. The time that we were together was like nothing else. It was love and lust, it was life, it was strength and tears and passion and hate and depth and loss and rebirth. It was something that mere words could never justifiably describe. Yet in the end, we knew it was over and that it was time that we moved on with our lives. We must. And though my ache for her would stay with me forever, we did part ways.

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