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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I had turned into somewhat of a zombie over the last few months , working constantly and moving more product than I had in years , not that I needed the money or the rush of a constant danger of rivals or being caught by the feds.

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Sitting under the awning next to her truck, Vanille looked down the street and decided that the fair was beginning to wind down. She breathed a sigh of relief both because the long day was over, and because she was going to turn a decent profit from working the small town street fair. Considering her name, she might very well have been destined to sell homemade ice cream from the back of a truck, but it certainly hadn't been her plan.

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He stretches himself out, the sheets rustling as he flexes his muscles and lets out a long yawn. Nick smiles at the smooth, warm form resting at his side. Glancing over, he sees her red hair spilling across her face and pillow, her creamy white skin exposed to the air. She moans and moves closer to him, one arm draped across his chest while one leg slides up along his own.

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I can still see it in high def, up close and personal; the image is engraved on my brain. The bald, glistening vulva of a teenage girl — a squirming, moaning teenage girl, knees up — is not to be forgotten. The best night of my life was the night my sister had a slumber party. To save money during my last year of college, I moved back in with my parents and commuted from their home in a Boston suburb.

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It was early afternoon, and it had been a quiet day. I had gotten a few things from the shops and done some things in the garden. Staff party tonight. Christ, I can't be arsed. All that brown nosing. I'll have to stand with the boss, and he won't be listening to a word I say. He'll just be leering at my wife, Jane. She copes well with it, but I know she hates it. We're both in our late thirties now. There was a time in our 20s it would have been funny. We would have laughed about it. But now? He's a lecherous old man in his mid-fifties and it's just sad and very annoying.

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Every guy has had that one girl, the Wild One. The one that you probably still thinking about while fucking your wife twenty years later. The girl that your old buddies say "I wonder what happened to her. Probably ended up in porn or something." Lacey was that girl for me. We met as freshmen in college. She lived on the floor above me. I was first introduced to her by her roommate, Mary.

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I was wholly unprepared for the events that transpired that evening. The workday was over. I went home, showered, and called my girlfriend/fuck-buddy, Penny. We had planned to go see a movie, but when I called her to see when she was picking me up, she apologized and confessed that she had other plans. She had forgotten that she'd already promised to go to a party with her roommate, Kendra.

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