Your erotic stories

'Knock...knock...knock'. Melanie put her book down and answered the front door. "Hi...Mrs. Barton," the good looking teenager asked, "Is Warren in?" "Ehm no," she smiled when she recognised her son's best-friend Lee Clark or Clarkie as he was known to his friends, "he's at work but shouldn't be long; do you want to come in and wait?" "Yeh thanks." He mumbled and wiped his trainers on the door mat as he followed the slim woman into the living room.

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Chapter One "Evan, Mr. Franklin would like to see you if you're available." "I'm on my way, Francine." Evan hung up the phone, grabbed his notebook and ran up the back stairs to Francine's door. As he caught his breath he made sure his shirt was tucked in and his tie was straight and brushing his hair back with his left hand opened the door and went in.

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I didn't wake up that morning expecting anything exciting to happen. Who does? It was just one of those days when you feel a little better than usual. Time seemed to run so slow as I got ready for work. I wore one of my favorite outfits. A light blue button shirt and a dark skirt. The shirt brought out my blue eyes and the skirt showed off my legs. It was not too short, I was a teacher after all, but it did end just above my knees and I was able to show off my summer tan. I put my long blonde hair up in a ponytail that ended in the middle of my back.

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I woke up to the sound of someone pounding on my front door. I cracked open one bleary eye and checked the clock. Two in the goddamn morning. I wondered who the hell it could be this late at night. I'd just spent the past week putting in overtime at the office. There was a major client project going down, and while I wasn't team lead I did have a major part to play. That meant a lot of late nights and early mornings.

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He stretches himself out, the sheets rustling as he flexes his muscles and lets out a long yawn. Nick smiles at the smooth, warm form resting at his side. Glancing over, he sees her red hair spilling across her face and pillow, her creamy white skin exposed to the air. She moans and moves closer to him, one arm draped across his chest while one leg slides up along his own.

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I showed up at the Fisher's house to baby sit in my typical summer outfit of white tennis shorts and a t shirt. Although I had turned eighteen months ago and was about to graduate from high school, I didn't mind babysitting for them. They had a big TV, well-behaved kids, well-stocked fridge and Joanie, their mom, was not only gorgeous, but as I had learned from the occasions when I saw her in a tennis dress and from looking at their vacation beach pictures, she had a great bod!

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Helen was a little surprised when the doorbell rang at precisely nine a.m., exactly when the contractor had told her that the workers would arrive to build her new deck. She was even more surprised when she opened the door and saw two young men who couldn't be more than twenty years old.

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I think it's probably safe to say that most people have at least two distinct sexual memories; losing their virginity, and the best sex they ever experience. For a variety of reasons, the two events are usually distinct and separate. Most people recall losing their virginity with fondness for obvious reasons, but will admit the awkwardness of the first time encounter, based usually on the lack of experience on the part of one or both participants.

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Brad was an only child. He was six years old when his mom, Karoline, died in an accident. He had fond memories of his mom, especially of the one summer he spent in Northern California at her family's beach-front home. Often, he looked at a photo taken on a beach that showed him being hugged by his mother and a woman with long neck and legs. The woman called him, Berde, a Danish name. After his father remarried, he did not have a good relationship with his step mother, Brigitte. He saw her as an immature and selfish woman.

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My eyes open hesitantly - struggling to adjust to the early morning sun filtering in through the bedroom curtains. I let out a small groan as I reached across the nightstand at the side of the bed in an effort to turn the alarm clock in my direction so that I could see what time it was. I froze in mid-reach when my mind finally processed the fact that I was completely naked and in somebody else's bedroom. It came rushing back to me in a hurry why nearly every muscle in my body was protesting with my every movement. I slowly turned my head, hoping that it had all been a fevered dream.

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