Your erotic stories

For generations, the Royal Family had been protected by the elite Royal Guard, given the best training and the most advanced weapons to date. With a proud heritage which stretched back generations, the Royal Family had always been under the protectorate one family.

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Captain Delwin Jackson—Diggs to almost everyone who knew him—opened the only eye he was able to open, seeing first the photo of Tawna and the kids, Jamia and Jeron, that should be in his wallet but, inexplicably was in a frame too big for it and standing on top of a white laminated nightstand next to the bed.

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"Ohhh . . . Jesus . . . God!!" Ernestine's orgasm was going on so long I was beginning to worry. "Fuck . . . me . . . again!" It was a groan, a begging, sluttish moan. She lay on the floor, sperm smeared all over her, her pussy drooling a white stream from the last guy's load, her mouth creamy from its last visitor. She was beckoning to me. "Take me," she murmured. "Ram that big thing in me!"

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My parents had prepared a welcome home party for their Marine Sergeant son coming back from a tour of combat duty. It was a food and booze feast attended by various relatives, neighbors and family friends wanting to hear war stories. As glad as I was to be home among relatives, I had a problem that overshadowed all feelings. I was horny, extremely horny after a year of living in a hostile land, masturbating to keep my sanity.

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My gut tightened as I walked down the line of tents to Sergeant First Class McNundic's green hootch, For a long time I had felt nervous around him. I had no reason to, really – I was a 2nd Lieutenant in the US Army, and he was a noncommissioned officer in my platoon. I had no reason to be nervous around that guy!

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Sitting in the airport is never much fun, regardless of the reason behind traveling. I'm a seasoned traveler though and even despite all of the new security measures and increasing delays, it seems that I'm at the airport more often now than not. In fact, with my relatively new job, I'm traveling more now than ever. But who's complaining, right? After all, it's putting food on the table. I've never been one to complain too much anyway.

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Before starting my tour of duty in Okinawa, I thought my primary talent was playing the piano. I was soon to learn otherwise, though, and my late coming to "the" life gripped me like a disease or an unshakable habit. I had known since not long after puberty that I had an unusual attraction. I had formed friendships quickly from my days in high school—and not just with my school chums but with their parents as well. Everyone wanted to get to know me—to get close to me.

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