Your erotic stories

Pamela had already made the picnic and packed it into a wicker basket when the boys arrived. She'd cleaned the kitchen as well, been a thorough little domestic goddess with her mom and dad away for the week. And finally she had changed from jogging pants and T-shirt into her costume. Nothing outlandish, just a simple white-muslin dress and sandals, and then to the garden to pluck daisies and buttercups and ring them into a crown and a necklace.

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My alarm. I slapped the thing, sent it flying. Later, I'd be amazed the thing still worked. I hate alarm clocks. I sat up on the side of my bed and adjusted my nightie. One of my nipples was peeking out. Five years ago, I'd have played with it, teased it for its indiscretion. Hell, five years ago, I probably wouldn't have worn the nightie. And I still would have played with it.

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I paused, and looked back down the track I had followed up the hill. The Downs in high summer have a special quality. The sweet smell of bracken, the softness of the rolling hills, the cool and quiet of the patches of woodland, the hum of the insects in the hot sunshine and the tracks leading mysteriously away from the ridge path through the brilliant green of the tall bracken. They are places of beauty whatever the season but most especially in late July.

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Take me there and I will cum. A bawdy tale by Cat All the time we'd been chatting on messenger I'd insisted there would be nothing more. Despite the incredible intimacy of our chats I stressed that I'd never go further. Although we had the most amazing electronic sex where you would sometimes make me cum three and even four times I'd told you I was scared to talk to you or meet you.

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She was a runner. That would prolong the pursuit. He had already chased her about one hundred yards into the woods. Why she headed in that direction he'll never know. But in another fifty yards or so, she'd be facing a steep embankment that would allow him to get her. He ran behind her with that familiar satisfaction of another successful capture.

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Drew put-in before Dooley Bridge, his goal being to photograph the length of the river through town, marking its changes as it went from rural to urban to estuarine environments in the space of four miles. Being June and approaching the summer solstice in this northern state, the sky began to lighten before five in the morning. Drew had been up since four, having loaded his kayak onto his Subaru the previous evening. His main goal was to be up before the tourists and their jet skis, and he had provided himself a wide buffer.

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On Monday I appeared for work. There I met Denise, the secretary/paralegal who was also Ron's sister. Denise was thirty-five with long brown hair that reached her ass, a curvy figure, impressive chest, and killer legs. Her round wide round face featured large green eyes, a prominent jaw, and a large mouth with full lips.

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Hello. I've been hoping for a chance to tell you this story. My name is Andre, and I'm a city planner for a small town out west. I love my job, but every now and then I need a major break from the pressure. Maybe you know the feeling. What works best for me is to get out into the wilderness, where the loudest noise is the breeze in the pine boughs, and time runs much more slowly.

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The parking lot was empty, but that was nothing unusual at six in the morning. Justin rolled up and parked on the far edge of the gravel lot, letting out a yawn. He'd stayed up a little late studying, but he wasn't going to miss the opportunity his father was finally providing. Besides, it was a welcome distraction from the lack of sex resulting from dumping his cheating girlfriend a couple weeks earlier.

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We left the car by the side of the country road and headed off towards the forest by the familiar path beaten into the earth. Tall summer grass paraded beside us as we neared the edge of the woods. Wrens, finches, robins and red-wing black birds played all around us while crickets sawed their legs together. The pillowy clouds were a little grey, and light rain was forecasted, but it was too perfect a day to let go to waste because of a forecast.

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