Your erotic stories

The name's Piper. Peter Piper. But I don't pick pecks of pickled peppers. I solve cases. I'm a private dick. That's a detective for those of you who don't know the lingo. A private eye. It was a miserable Friday afternoon. Cold, damp, foggy. The weather was foul. And so was my mood. My bank account was dwindling at an alarming pace. I hadn't had a case in weeks. I was sitting behind my battered desk in my shabby office on the second floor of the Burke building, downtown. Way downtown. I was sitting there and I was worrying. If something didn't happen soon, I was in deep shit. I had bills to pay.

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I have a huge problem. I'm 22, 6'1, 175 lbs., with light brown hair and grey eyes. I'm a college student at a prestigious university, and I'm studying psychology. I'm an honor student, and I'm an athlete. I work out, play baseball, lacrosse, and basketball, and I'm in very good shape. My parents are rich, so I've never really had to worry about money.

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Ever tried to shift the weight of a sleeping man from your body? Ever tried to shift two? It's like being pinned to the bed by a felled water-buffalo; well at least I imagine it would be. It's not that I mind – being pinned by two men that is – it's just that it's rather difficult to extricate yourself without waking them, especially if your trying to avoid another bout of rampant love-making.

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