Your erotic stories

Greg finally found his right new home. It was at the right size, right price, and a quiet neighbourhood, the place where he can quietly concentrate his home business. At 28, he was an ambitious young man. The next door neighbour was a couple most probably in their fifties. The man called Tom was a cold man who would pull a long face when coming across people. What sort of woman would fall in love with this kind of man, Greg thought.

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It had been a long and pleasant evening. The double date started with a dinner out, then progressed to dancing and drinks at an upscale club, and was now ending up at Steve and Dana's place for light night banter.

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I moaned softly as the dark-haired man ran his tongue over my nipple and then over it again, chills running down my spine at the feel of the hard, round metal stud rubbing on my nipple. I was thinking hard, although having a hard time organizing my thoughts—Steve was his name, I thought.

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Erin watched her son with some concern, he had a limp and it wasn't the first time she had noticed some things about him, the odd bruise on an arm or a leg, what looked like a bruises around his handsome young face. She had approached him a few times about them, but he had been evasive in his answers and always tried to change the subject or left the conversation.

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A meeting with the new boss, great. I hadn't met him yet so he called me away from my busy schedule just so I could meet with him. I hated meetings and was notorious for it, thinking they were usually a diversion from the task at hand. I walked down the hall toward his office, my face with an agitated grimace on it. Some of my co-workers caught on and began cracking jokes about it. "Mark Johnston," a sign on his office door proclaimed as I knocked.

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I still can't remember when this twisted little project first took hold. I think it might have been early last spring. I run an Internet-based business out of a home office in a pleasant old neighborhood downtown. I moved in a year ago and business is good. I have lots of free time and can pretty much plan my schedule any way I want.

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Ah yes, she's here again - the girl. I've been watching her for several weeks now. She and her friends hang out at the pool where I live. Several of them must be sub-letting for the summer because there's no way a college student could afford to live here on a regular basis. Then again, who knows? Parents give their kids everything these days.

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This story's a sequel to Copenhagen Couple and Meetings with Mark. It's not necessary to read those stories first, but some things will make better sense if you do. * At the age of 20 and after my first experiences with male sex I acknowledged to myself that I was bisexual. But I wasn't going to be open about the fact that I liked to be with men. Sadly, bisexual men are often despised by both gay and straight guys, and even by some women.

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The rivals were Becky Johnson and Stacy Willis. No one would have ever imagined the two girls used to be friends. It was long ago back back in middle school when they swore they'd be best friends for life. Becky's parents were more than satisfied with her choice of friends.

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We broke up for a lot of reasons, Angela and I, as people always do. It was the laundry that triggered it. We must have squabbled over the laundry at least a dozen times before, but for whatever reason, this time the proverbial camel collapsed under the pressure. I'd been putting through load after load, trying to get through it all before she got home from work, hoping she'd appreciate coming home to a tidier living space.

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