Your erotic stories

My first truly erotic encounter set a high standard for all that followed. I was eighteen years old, fresh-faced and pretty, if a little naive. I was ready to experience new things and break out of high school awkwardness. This was partly the reason why I quickly made my peace with having to share a bedroom with a stranger assigned by the college.

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Five years of working for the number one rated news station in the metropolitan area had landed me with the top reporters status. Usually the main goal in broadcasting was the anchor desk but for now I enjoyed going out into the people and not just smiling to them from behind a desk. My degree in journalism and my naturally good looks sped me fast up the chain of news reporters. Yeah my "pageant" good looks helped in such a visual field.

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Late, late, late -- I am going to be late. I muttered this mantra to myself as I ran to my car. It was 7:32 and I was supposed to check in by 8:15 at the seminar. I was headed to a teacher's seminar at a hotel about forty-five minutes from my house. The day was already hot and humid. I needed to pick up a few extra classes so I would have a better chance at getting a substitute teaching job at one of the schools close by.

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"Mmmph.", I moaned, my mouth completely filled with the hard, throbbing member as I sucked it, my tongue working along the underside with horny zeal on it's way towards the tip. My head moved rhythmically back and forth as the head of his cock grazed my tonsils, then back out to the tip until my mouth was flooded with his thick, delicious cum.

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Liz sat on the couch with her long legs crossed, the high heel on her raised foot rocking back and forth with the nervous energy of her toes moving. Her short tight skirt was up high on her thighs, the tops of her thigh high stockings showing a strip of bare skin above them. Lisa grinned and said to her roommate, "You're motor is running. Any reason or just general horniness?"

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My husband and I were in the process of moving out of a tiny apartment in the city and remodelling an old farm house about thirty miles from the beltway. It actually made him closer to work, and neither of us wanted to raise a child while living in an apartment in the middle of the state capitol. We were finally seriously discussing children after being married for eight years.

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Nora. Red-haired, round-bottomed, small-breasted. Thin, lithe and angular. Shaved her pubic hair into patterns, depending on her mood. Tattoo of a treble clef on her ankle. Her relationship before me had been with a woman. After me, she moved in with a couple. Sometimes I led my girlfriends (later, my wife) to the dark side. Nora had a steady table there long before I got to her.

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December 3, 1997 He stood just shy of six foot, medium build, brown hair and brown eyes. His clothes were similarly, well, average. But the way he moved wasn't. It was feral, stealthy.....like a beast on the prowl for food....or a man on the scent of a woman. Taking a second, more thorough look, Savannah observed how his jeans fitted him snugly, drawing attention to well toned thigh and calf muscles, and a tight ass. His loose button-up shirt hinted at a smooth, sculpted chest.

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A muttered curse bounced off the interior walls of the SUV. Gail Steelport took a deep breath, hit the steering wheel of her 2000 Suburban, and let another vile explanative fall from her usually smiling lips. The gauge didn't lie, and neither did the sound of an engine trying to turn over, but failing to do so. Gail looked around; her headlights aided her in determining that she had pulled off to the side of the road, far enough that no one -- who was paying attention -- would run into her. Rain pelted the window, as Gail dug through her purse.

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My boss, Mr. Adams, calls me a nanny. He's pretty old school about things so I just let it go. I prefer the term, au pair, because it sounds so much more exotic and important. Mrs. Adams is probably the one who has the best grip on reality. She just calls me her "help." I started working for the Adams' to help pay my way through business college. Then about three months into a graphics designer degree, I decided, "Fuck it."

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