Your erotic stories

Let me start by saying that I am always willing to step up and admit when I've made a mistake. I also hate being wrong so I have a tendency to avoid situations where those words "I was wrong" would have to escape my mouth. That said, the phrase "This is stupid," kind of became my mantra as my minivan sped along the nearly deserted roads to the lake. It was too late to turn back so I let those cursed words roll around in the back of my mouth.

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Let's see, I graduated high school in April of 1964, if I remember correctly. April of 1999 was my thirty fifth high school reunion. Had it really been that long? It didn't feel like it but then again my memory ain't what it used to be, to put it mildly. Since I had never made it to any of the other reunions, why should this one be any different? A phone call from my past was the answer to that one.

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"Fuck", I say to him, "if you had a pencil dick, you'd be sliding in there now, right up to your balls, all nine or ten inches of you." "Ten," he says in my ear, nuzzling me. "Ok, ten," I say, my mouth now at his ear. "Whatever," I smirk. 'Ten' I know it is. It's our private joke. We'd measured it how many times.

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My stomach was churning and a headache was starting to form just above my eyes. Nearly 20 years later, that building still gave me fits of trepidation: Bradford James High School; home of the Fighting Navajos. Of course, here's a tip for the people that name schools and figure out the mascot names: think like a high school kid. Going to school at Bradford James and being called the Navajos is a problem when you're always referred to as the "B J Hoes" by the other schools and kids.

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"Buenos dias, Hermosa" She whispered to me over the phone. I grin without trying and ask her when her flight leaves. She replies in a few hours. I reply, "Hurry..." Our call ends. Los Angeles will be clocking 90 degrees today, so my phone tells me. From my bed, the morning sun pours in and the sky is crystal clear. The makings of a perfect day. It will be perfect.

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It had been a long night. What started out as a welcome home get together had quickly turned into a full-blown party. Not that she minded spending time with his friends. They had all been deployed for quite a long time. But looking at Chris from across the room, she didn't know how much longer she'd be able to keep her composure. She had been celibate his entire deployment but now that he was home, her panties were feeling a bit like a chastity belt that's time had come to be removed.

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I had joined the Navy shortly after graduation. We were headed home to port after an extended cruise, my last as I was due for rotation to shore-duty and from there to an honorable discharge six month's later. Still several days away before we docked, I'd received a telegram from my mother. The fact she'd sent a telegram rather than a letter told me it was urgent. Worried, I quickly opened it the moment I'd received it, and laughed. Good old mom.

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Karl stared at the phone in his hand after flipping it closed. "Well this might be an interesting trip home after all," was the statement he made to the air in his empty living room. He had just finished up a three hour long, catch-up conversation with someone from his past. Someone he had shared more than just a dorm room and later a frat house double with at college. Much more. Much, much more.

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You are finally coming into town. You said for business, but I don't care what the reason, I am just glad to finally see you. I race to meet you at the restaurant. There are butterflies in my stomach. We have chatted and talked on the phone for so long now. So much flirting and longing to be with you. When I arrive at the restaurant, I see your truck is already there, and I start to feel a little better. When I get inside, I scan the room for you, and see you stand up and motion me over to your table. You've been keeping an eye out for me and you smile as I get close to the table.

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"Hello, Frank." I turned and smiled. I expected to see at least a couple of my old teachers when I decided to stop by my old high school, but I was still surprised to see Mrs. Ross standing there. What was even more amazing was that she looked just as hot as I remembered.

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