Your erotic stories

Adam had just turned eighteen. His aunt Kelly had sent him a plane ticket to come spend two weeks in Las Vegas with her and her daughter's Trina was twenty-one and Lisa was twenty-seven. He arrived at the airport at nine fifteen on a Wednesday evening. His cousins were waiting on him, holding a big sign that said Adam's Family. They always liked to joke around and he laughed at their sign.

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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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"Bugger it," Colin muttered as he knocked a pile of notes on to the floor. He had been working at the computer on a tutorial paper for most of the morning and had stood up to have a stretch. He knelt down and started to reassemble the notes when he spotted a book among the tangle of wires at the back of computer that at some time must have fallen down the back of the desk. He picked it up, looked at it, and realised that it was a book he had borrowed from his friend Damien at least a couple of months ago and had been forgotten.

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I first saw her as she walked from her car towards the supermarket. She was hard to miss, especially in broad daylight. I was parked two rows away and she walked into the Harris Teeter store about twenty steps ahead of me, her tight ass swaying back and forth in her tiny, designer-label jean miniskirt.

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The door opened and I leaped forward, letting out an excited squeal like a teenage girl as I wrapped my arms around the girl who stood there, hugging her tightly. She returned both the hug and the squeal, both of us overjoyed at being together again after three months apart. We pulled apart and I just gazed at her face. Robyn! After all these months, I was finally seeing Robyn again!

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In high school, I was one of the premier jocks in our school. I dated the cheerleaders, popular girls, and even the less popular girls in other clicks. I was, by most standards, large. At 6'6", 225 lbs (then, not now), and thank you god, blessed to be hung like a horse, I have filled lots of tight pussies. An athlete of state honors level for football, basketball, and even baseball, college scholarships abounded. I accepted a full ride to a Div I college for football as a quarterback.

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There had been a few responses to my ad before D's, but there was something about each -- something impersonal and a bit too eager -- that had made me wary about responding to any of them. And then came D's reply. There was something trustworthy in his tone. Patient. Not trying to rush things, but from the start, determined to be sure that I was myself comfortable following through with what I had proposed.

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First off, let me say that rape is a heinous thing to inflict on anyone. Nobody in their right mind would suggest otherwise and I do consider myself to be in my right mind. When a friend became a victim of date rape I was as shocked, as supportive, as anyone but that was when we were in high school and I was much younger.

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"What exactly is this little meeting about, Mr. Cross?" Mrs. Morrison said as she leaned back against her desk and looked at her pupil. With her arms crossed, her breasts swelled up to almost overflow from her red blouse. Lawrence Julian Cross III smiled up at the middle-aged math teacher. He took in her short frame like he'd done for months. She had to be at least a foot shorter than his six foot two inches.

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I passed by the old façade several times a week. The old neon sign reading "Paris Cinema" above the old marquis that simply had the word "Adonis". No movie name, just that one single word to let people know (the right people) what was going on inside.

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