Your erotic stories

The white cotton fabric of her panties made a scratching sound as it rubbed hard against her pubic hair. Wet heat was penetrating the only barrier to the pussy I had dreamed about since I was sixteen. The situation had deemed it necessary for hard, rough kissing. Our tongues were battling, roughing the other up, our mouths had become instruments for something other than verbal communication; instead it was a primal and taboo language we were speaking.

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My name is Will, everyone calls me Weezer, a nickname my Grandpa gave me when I was six years old and stuck with me. I'm 24, I don't have the body of a body builder nor am I hung like a horse in fact, I'm on the thin side. 6'2" at 185 pounds, a hard wind could blow me over, and I would say I am average in the lower region. But I do have a very nice looking girlfriend, and she has a beautiful mother. Not the ones you always hear about, the ones that look like they could be sisters, but, both are extremely good looking.

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Dillan didn't know the specifics of a gale-force wind, but by the force of this wind, he thought it should have qualified. He wiped the fine film of sand from his clean-shaven face. "Forget it," he told his companion, who peered up the boardwalk. "It's a stupid bet. I call it off." "What?" Joel said, turning to him. "You can't do that! You made a deal, man." "Yeah, well, I don't feel so desperate anymore. This wind is bumming me out."

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Kevin reached for the keycard when his mother handed it to him, and fought the urge to grin. Her guilt trip had been working. After a month of insisting that he had to go on one last family vacation, because he would be going off to college and they were never going to see him, he was ready to cave. If she'd waited until he got home that evening instead of calling his cell with the offer to give him his own room, he'd be bunking up with his younger brothers.

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She did not clean herself after I had spunked over her over ripe, fleshy tits and her make up pasted face. She simply sat there, still in the position she had been in as I had fucked her, and with the cum that I had showered over her beginning to run down her chin to her neck and from her tits towards the gentle rolls of her stomach. In remaining like this, she was silently offering me an invitation to admire her and I was keen to accept it.

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I didn't hear the garage door open so I barely had enough time to hide my hard-on and zip up my pants before the Marek's opened the door. What I didn't have time for was to stop the VCR. When they came in, they were greeted by the sounds of fucking coming from their widescreen TV and their "Debbie Does Dallas" video that I had found stashed behind all the other tapes.

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Joanne was in a state of total arousal. Of course, she would never let Betty know this. But she'd come to look forward to Betty's regular reports on her torrid fuck sessions with Bill with enormous anticipation. As Betty recounted the events of her last tryst with Bill, Joanne's mind wandered. Images of him swam in her head. Those images were clipped from afternoons he'd spent at her pool with Sarah, her daughter. Evenings he'd stayed for dinner. And then there were the memories of Sarah's moans and cries as Bill fucked her senseless in her bedroom. The bedroom next to Joanne's.

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In high school, it had always been me, Jodi, and Nadine. I couldn't have hoped for a closer relationship, even with sisters. We were sort of nerds in high school, but under the acne, clueless fashion, and dumb crushes were fun-loving, pretty young women waiting to break free.

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This is a complete story, although there is a sequel possible if reader interest is there. *** To the rest of our family, Grandma Rose was - let's be charitable and use the word "eccentric". In the words of my mother, my father's mother was a "nuttier than a fruitcake" and often suggested that she be put in a rubber room somewhere.

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Sebastian could tell that she was upset, but was not quite sure if he should attempt to console her, or for that matter, exactly how he would go about approaching her with an offer of comfort. He had seen the despondent expression she had been wearing on her face all night and thought that she looked like she might be about to cry when she excused herself from the table and left the banquet hall to go upstairs to her hotel room. He had quickly said goodnight to his dining companions at the next table and followed her to the lobby, not totally sure of what he was intending to do if, and when, he caught up with her.

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