Your erotic stories

Wendy awoke just past 5 a.m. Kenneth lay spooned behind her an arm around her so that a hand cupped one breast. Wendy wore nothing and luxuriated in the warm expanse of Kenneth's body pressed against her. Reluctantly she pulled herself away and padded into the bathroom. She sat and peed. There was slight irritation of the extremely tender walls of her vagina. No surprise. He had made love to her into the night, first visiting each of her erogenous zones including ones she didn't know she had and maybe had not had previously.

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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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The three Henchmen were sat around a wooden table playing cards when justice came calling for them. They wore rough masks (little more than balaclavas with eye-holes torn in them); workmen's boots; and plain overalls adorned with a symbol of a long shadow trailing behind a man's outline. Three handguns and a bottle of whisky lay alongside the pile of money that they played for.

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Cathy was shivering as she hurried to her Mustang in the school parking lot. She ignored all the whistles and comments from the students as the cold wind swirled around and blew her skirt up revealing her slim legs and pink panties. After starting the car she put on the heater but it blew nothing but cold air. She wished that she lived in a warmer climate than New Jersey.

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"Professor Hart?" She peered hesitantly around the doorframe. The professor sat at his desk, on the phone. Without interrupting his conversation, he nodded at her, pointed to one of the chairs in front of his desk and gestured for her to close the door behind her. She sat, staring aimlessly around the room while he finished his conversation.

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The first time I met Mr. Steinberg, I was totally impressed with the way he carried himself. He looked pretty old to me, maybe in his 70's, maybe even older, but I could tell from the way he dressed and spoke and especially with his young physique, that he exuded confidence and self assurance. I don't think he was a body builder by any means, but dressed in casual attire, he stood straight and proud and when he moved around, his agility belied his age, however old he really was. 

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It was late summer and the beginning of mine and Christina's senior year. We had both just turned eighteen and we were eager to have fun. She was five seven, Italian, had smallish breasts with dark red nipples. With nipples that were continuously erect and an ass that was more than generous, Christina had men following her around like a bunch of hound dogs chasing a raccoon...

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Movie night at home will never be the same Je..re..my Je..re..my Such a sweet sound. "Je..remy," Mom whispered into my ear. "Mmm," I sighed, turning toward her. "Je..remy," she whispered teasingly, nibbling on my ear.

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My name is Fred and I'm a disgusting bastard. At least that was what my last girl friend called me as she threw me out of her house. I guess she's right but I can't help it, for you see I happen to think that a lady's armpit is about the sexiest part of her body. Don't ask me why because I just don't know and although I try to hide my secret it always comes out one way or the other.

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This story has been buried deep inside of me for a long time. I remember all of it very well, almost like it was last week. I've reminisced and re-lived it all many times over the years. Much of it is quite fun to remember. Some of it is bittersweet. Some of it is painful still. When I was out of college and in my early twenties I got a job selling radio advertising in a suburban/rural area, and although new to the region, I became successful in a fairly short time.

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