Your erotic stories

When I was 18 years old, in my senior year at a Catholic school for girls, my dad caught me on the street with my parochial school uniform's skirt pulled up a few extra inches so that it uncovered my legs to get the attention of boys. A lot of girls at my school did that after school. He is very strict. He is Sicilian.

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Weeks of anger, hurt and frustration had caused the maelstrom of emotions to abate enough that we could be in each other's presence without compounding the situation. My heart squeezed painfully in my chest as I looked at him, my eyes feasting once more on the visage of this man I love. His silver hair was shorter than it'd been the last time I saw him;

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I'm really quite a shy man, not one for chatting up the girls in the office. The flirting is sort of fun, but I never know what to do after the first few times. And then I see the light die in their eyes, and the conversation goes safe and boring. I do talk to them, but I hear about their boyfriends, families, domestic problems and holidays abroad. Never anything personal, never any hint about what they think about me.

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Alice was bored. At eighteen she was old enough to be on her own but she still lived at home and with both of her parents working 50+ hours a week she was bored out of her skull most of the time and she wasn't allowed to have friends over when they weren't home. She'd already done her chores, finished a book, and surfed the net and it was only 11:00 a.m. Usually she could spend all day looking up porn, one of her favorite things to do but recently her Mom had found a few pictures she'd downloaded and forgot to delete.

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Don't be shy with me... Fuck me, Fuck my tight little fuckhole. I want to feel your balls smack my clit as you grab a tit with each hand relentlessly, mercilessly pounding my sweet ass with your fat cock. Mmm Fuck! I scream as I feel your cockhead enter me, pushing your long fat shaft all the way deep inside my ass with one hard push. Pulling completely out and pushing it straight back inside for the first few thrusts.

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Alice van der Poole loved her boyfriend. Really, she did. Ben was perfectly handsome, perfectly sweet, perfectly... bland. Every kiss was preceded with a gentle, "May I kiss you?" and followed by a whispered, "You're so beautiful." At night, Ben would tell her how precious she was, how delicate and sweet and lovely. His fragile, perfect little rose. Alice wanted to scream.

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Becky Freeman couldn't believe her luck. Here she was, an eighteen-year-old girl visiting a sorority house at the college she planned on attending in the fall, stuck sitting bored on a couch instead of exploring campus or checking out any of the weekend parties. As part of the school's orientation program she was paired up with one of the current students as a chaperone of sorts.

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Meg's heart pounded in her chest as she pulled into a parking space in front of the condominium. She was having difficulty believing that she had agreed to this. What in the name of God had her hormones gotten her into this time? Where was her mind when she visited that Internet chat room? It had been hard enough to admit that old desires had begun to surface again but to actively go out and seek someone who could help her fulfill them was madness.

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She woke from dreams where she was trapped in ice, immobile; eyes wide open but only perceiving the outside world as multicoloured shadows. She tried to stretch her arms, to reach out to the side of the bed for some familiar object, or even up to the pillow, just to be certain she was anchored again to reality, but she could not move.

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You and I are planning to get together. It is all arranged so I have a babysitter, and you have things worked out on your end. I call you at work, that afternoon, but you are in a meeting or something, so I leave you a message. I simply state that I shall expect you at 6 p.m, not a minute earlier or later. There are no 'brownie points for early arrival.'

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