Your erotic stories

I took a big gulp of water from the wet plastic bottle, and set it back down in the cup holder of my lawn chair. The hot sun was beating down, slowly cooking my legs and bare chest, and the sound of quiet voices passing by was lulling me to sleep. "You look awfully cute in that straw hat Bobby," a familiar female voice said.

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It was nearing six o'clock. Jason glanced at his watch for the third time. "Honey? You about ready?" he called up to her from the stairs. He chuckled to himself. Denise had been primping herself for well over an hour. Not that that was a bad thing, she was just a little nervous. And it wasn't that she'd been worried about choosing the right outfit to wear for the evening, she wouldn't be wearing one.

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"Bugger," Sharon tilted her laptop backwards and checked underneath, half expecting to see its innards hanging out. "Piece of shit computer." Marcus finished chopping the onions and through teary eyes checked out the computer. "What did it do?" he asked. "Did any message pop up?" "Nothing," she said and forlornly pressed the power button. "And yes it's fully charged." She mashed at the keyboard before slamming down the lid and pushing it across the kitchen bench.

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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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She knew what they were up to. She'd seen them watching her from across the room. They were in the booth furthest away from where she was seated at the bar. She had noticed the girl first, a young woman with short blond curls, very attractive. Next to the girl was a guy, somewhere in his mid twenties or so, with brown hair nearly shaved to his scalp.

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It was a Friday night in spring, prime time for frat parties around campus. My roommate, Shauna, and I were freshmen and often attended one of these parties to have something to do. But we almost always left early out of boredom with the drunken antics of the younger frat brothers. This Friday started and ended differently.

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The bitch shows up behind home plate again. Unbelievable. Second night in a row, she gets in the same seat and tries to fuck me up with her flashes of tit. She quickly yanks down one side of her tank top, flashes her boob, and tries to mess with my head. She doesn't even have great cans. We're not talking about centerfold or top-notch porn material here. More like porn you'd find on the lower shelves, like bottles of cheap vodka in a liquor store.

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Sharon stood out the front of the large sandstone Rose Bay home and slowly unfolded the piece of paper in her hand. She checked the number against those written on the piece of paper that had been handed to her three weeks earlier. With a wave over her shoulder the taxi driver pulled away, leaving her alone to begin the second stage of her burgeoning sexual development.

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"You should grow that moustache again Burt," Bush said to his friend, his voice full of friendly sarcasm, "They make a nice flavor saver when licking cooze." "You would know Bush," Burt joined in with his friend's banter. Burt smiled as he drove their pick up truck, his mind reminiscing to the origin of his nickname. On a fishing trip once, he skipped shaving for a whole week.

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New Year's Eve is always one of my favorite holidays, and while my girlfriend Sarah and I don't go out to the bars anymore, we still like to get together with friends and have a good time. 2005, was no different, except now we have a house to entertain in. We had moved in that summer, a couple months after we had gotten engaged, so we were well established and ready to host a party by the time winter rolled around.

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