Your erotic stories

"329, 331, 333..." I muttered to myself, reading the numbers off the doors as I made my way down the narrow hotel hallway. I could almost hear the sound of my own nervous heartbeat over the quiet buzzing of a nearby ice machine as I pushed my hand into my pocket to pull out a folded, crumpled piece of paper. Cursing myself for the inability to calm my shaking nerves, I unfolded the small parchment and read the number scrawled upon it.

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My phone buzzed. Looking down at it, I saw that it was a text message from Emma. Looking in the rearview mirror, the blue and red flashing lights of the state trooper that had just pulled me over spiked into my eyes and the high beams made my eyes water. Pushing the button on the phone, I read the message. 'Where are you?' it said.

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"You're being silly. I'm old enough to be your mother." Says Willow with a sad smile. Stepping over to her I look down into her dark eyes. I pause for a second as I see those beautiful pools of hazel looking back at me. "And I'm old enough to know that's not old." I lean down to kiss her. For a half a second I think she might let me then her head turns and my lips brush her cheek.

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It's amazing how hard it is to think logically when you're horny. I had the house to myself for the entire morning, a rarity anymore, and I was finally able to spend plenty of time in front of the computer searching my favorite porn sites. On a day like this, when I know my wife will be gone for hours and there is no chance of being disturbed, I like to take my time with things. I grab my lube, strip down and watch video after video, browse through stories, look at pictures, and try to make my pleasure last as long as possible.

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My eleventh grade English teacher was a short, full figured woman of 23 in her first year as a full fledged teacher. She had a classic hour glass figure, huge tits and a very full butt with wider than average hips. She was not the type that I was attracted to. I liked 'em tall, lean and hard. Interestingly, her waist was tiny.

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Tiffany Andrews arrived early for her appointment with Miss Elizabeth Jones, Principle of Hedley Coleville Academy. She had only been to the office of the exclusive school once before, when she had enrolled her two children, Amber who was 12 and Derrick 10.

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I could smell a floral scent as I walked down the hall to our bedroom door. I loosened my tie and called out, "Lynn, I'm home." "In here, honey." I felt a brief flicker of excitement that she might be waiting for me naked on the bed. Well, she was lying on the bed all right, but she was wearing a baggy sweatshirt and sweatpants and was flipping through a magazine. In other words, her usual evening garb.

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It's late. Deep within the AM. The storms are rattling the house, shaking all the windows... with a crash the room goes white, lit brightly beyond any recognition, for just a split second. Then total darkness. Again. I'm scared. I'm alone. I hear the sheets of rain colliding against my window...

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i. Inside the cell, on the top bunk, a heart shaped box of pink mints lay on the naked stained mattress. A note next to the box said, "Be my girl". The guard looked from the note to Kyle's pretty face. Kyle knew he was in trouble. "Welcome to Purgatory, boy," the guard said with a smile fit for Hells' gatekeeper. He slammed the heavy cell door, leaving Kyle to the cruel hands of the twisted God who ruled this place.

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John inserted the key into his front door as quietly as he could. He slipped inside, putting his laptop case down ever so gently, and closed his eyes for a moment. Oh, hello you! There she was, padding barefoot down the stairs. She did not come to him; she stopped three steps up, so that her womanly pubis was level with his mouth, so that he had to look up to her, almost look up her.

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