Your erotic stories

When my father died, I blamed my mother. Not for his death – the car accident that killed him was due to bad weather and a teenage driver – but for all of the unhappiness that settled on our home and stayed there after he was gone. My mother locked herself away in darkness, and tried to keep me there, too.

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BEEP! The cell phone in Dave's pocket sounded, indicating an incoming message. He pulled the phone out of his jacket pocket and flipped it open. The identifier on the message was his wife, Sally. It took a few seconds to load, so he knew it must be a picture message. When the picture came up on his phone, he nearly spit the mouthful of coffee across his desk in surprise.

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Sarah woke up to the phone ringing at 8:00am on Saturday morning. "Hello," she mumbled into the mouthpiece. "Good morning Sarah," a deep masculine voice greeted her. She immediately woke up, sitting up in bed. "Good morning Sir," she replied. She was a weekend sex slave and usually was at her Master's house by now but he had requested that she stay at home in bed until she heard from him. He had a special day planned for her and she was to await his instructions.

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"You're on your way home, Sir? Now?" "I am." Hal bit his bottom lip. Shoot, shoot, shoot. He hadn't planned anything for dinner. "How long until you get here?" Mac drove one-handed down their street, other hand holding his cell. "Actually, I'm about to pull in the drive."

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Robert Kyle had finally had it. Everyday he allowed his American History class the last five minutes of the period to themselves. And everyday during those last five minutes, the female student sitting directly in front of him would do something to give him a raging hard-on. Dropping a pencil. Re-tying a shoelace. Tossing something in the wastebasket and missing by a mile. All three caused her to have to bend over.

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Alan walked back through the corridor of his school. He was returning to retrieve his jacket that he'd accidentally left behind. So eager to finish the day and rush home, he had been five minutes gone before he was reminded of the absence of his jacket with the cold nipping at him. Now approaching the classroom Alan sighed in relief when the door was still unlocked.

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Madison felt a little self-conscience. Somehow her boyfriend, Billy, had talked her into wearing her collegiate cheerleader uniform to the frat party. She had reluctantly agreed because she knew some of the other girls on the team would probably be wearing theirs. Billy had on his football jersey, all the boys wore their number when they were together and out among fellow students, so it helped Madison not feel so alone and awkward.

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My name is Waylon Fielding and I am married to a wonderful woman, my wife Celine Fielding. I would like to say that my life is perfect, or even good, but after two years of marriage I'm pretty freaking miserable and it's all Celine's fault. Actually, it really isn't her fault; it's her Mother's, the lovely Melissa Harmon.

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Brian, Jesse, and I have been friends for well over a decade; we came out of high school at the same time, they as a couple and me looking, as I am still. Brian and I are alike in stature, slightly over 6 feet and 200 lbs. Jesse is a petite blonde bombshell with a runners body and hair that reached her middle back. The thing is though, she bugs me.

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Lara had just dropped off her two daughters at school but, instead of turning around and going back home, she waited at the school gates with the other parents. Today was the end of term school party and the parents had been invited to attend a short concert before the party began. Lara noticed that some of the older schoolgirls were still walking in after the bell for the start of class and wondered if they would be punished for being late as some of her classmates had been when she attended this very same school.

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