Your erotic stories

Conservative upbringing had told me my body was a temple. These two were crossing the moat between my legs. Jennifer climbed up Tiffany and met me at her 36C breasts. She smiled at me, and licked along the same breast I was tasting. Jennifer kissed my cheek and then kissed my lips hard, running her tongue -- sweet with Tiffany's essence -- into my mouth.

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I'd broken the golden rule again. It was becoming a tiresome habit. Chandler's boy, Phillip Marlowe, may not be real, but he never broke it. He never did divorce work. The end of a romance is, frankly, the lowest human beings can get before they completely loose it. Even when it concerns basically good people; divorce can bring out the bad in anyone.

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