Your erotic stories

Z's Walks a Truck Stop Z came to visit me. I live in a much smaller town than Z. We don't have the theaters like she does but she brought her sexy outfit anyway. Had a fun warm up at my house. We haven't seen each other, since the last Theater visit, which had been a few weeks ago. I treated her to a great elegant dinner with wine.

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Roxie lay face down and naked on the bed, feeling Alan's fingers tracing lazily along her spine, curving over the globes of her rather plump bottom and skating gently back to the nape of her neck. This was the first time she had been able to feel so relaxed and uninhibited with her new boyfriend, and that was because, for the first time since she had returned home from university in the summer, her parents were away for the night and there was no fear of them being interrupted.

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Sometimes in life we become so lonely that we are willing to do most anything to fill the void. Frequently we do things that are risky and foolish. Often our high risk actions come with unexpected consequences. Clair Davis woke late that Saturday morning. As she sat up she looked at the digital clock sitting on her nightstand. The red numbers displayed ten thirty.

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Day 1. My wife Pam is very pretty and has a nice figure. She is also quite timid and will avoid confrontation at almost any cost. I worried that would eventually get her into trouble, and while I was partly right about that, it turned out to be something totally unexpected that was the dominant factor. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

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The hardest part of a marathon is often around Miles 20 and 21. It's the terrible intersection where the body is exhausted and the mind knows that the finish line is still miles ahead. Lauren hit that low point around noon. She was in good condition, her small body lean and toned, but the day was simply too much. It was much hotter than expected, over 80 degrees even at the starting line, and she had been struggling since Mile 14. She was too hot, too dehydrated, and had pushed too hard for her first marathon.

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It was my senior year playing women's basketball at a State College. My name is Lindy Clarke and I was one of the starting five. We were a good team, but a little short to excel in the conference playoff tournament--just suburban girls having a good time. We all could dribble, and pass and play defense, but we were outmatched in spite of our athleticism and good coaching.

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Greg waved goodbye to his wife, Susan, as she backed her Camry out of the driveway. Before she was even out of the driveway he started planning his weekend. He couldn't remember the last time he had the house to himself for an hour, much less a whole weekend. But he figured it might happen more often. His daughter was a senior in High School now and his son was away at college spending way too much money and probably partying his ass off.

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By way of background, you might want to see my earlier stories Nightime Disturbance and She Wants Rid. Fortunately, Lisa the girl's virginity I took "properly" in She Wants Rid didn't become pregnant and I didn't really see much of her before we both started at our respective universities. This is another true story also set in the late 1980's when there were no such things as MILF's. Instead sexy older women were known by the colloquial term of "Mrs Robinson's." The following is the true story of my encounter with a certain Mrs R.

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Penny sat as still and quiet as she could, no longer sobbing, no longer fighting the ropes tied so tightly around her wrists and ankles. She didn't press her tongue against the gag in her mouth anymore, either; it only made her start to choke, and she wanted to be utterly silent, some small part of her hoping that they would forget about her, that no one would come back and make good on the threats they'd left behind.

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