Your erotic stories

"God I need a cigarette!" I gasped as I collapsed, exhausted, at the top of the small mountain my team had just hiked up in the Lake District. "You're supposed to be setting us a good example." Khalid laughed as he flopped down next to me quickly followed by his two schoolmates. "Fu...To Hell with that!" I laughed, "I deserve one after a walk like that."

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It's snowing out and you're in the computer lab locking up at the end of your office hours. Your last student just left. It's dark outside and you're worried about driving your new car in the snow. You're also distracted because your favorite student blew off his study session. You wait until like 8:30, and say "Fuck it, I'm going home." Just then the door swings open and he walks in, covered in snow.

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“Okay guys. It’s time to finish what you’re doing and start tidying up.” I called to the six young guys in my decorating class. “Conner, I’m going to the staff room to get changed, so you’re in charge. No messing around, you lot! I need to be out of here in 30 minutes.” I’m a part-time leader for a Community Programme. The kids (usually 18 to 20 year olds) come to us for six months at a time to learn basic skills like joinery, brick laying, mechanics, or, in my case decorating.

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Miss Sanders settled her class down after coming back from a break so she can start the English class with everyone calm and quiet. It never took more than two loud firm orders from her to get all of her students to hush up and pay attention. They were especially attentive ever since her sex-ed classes a couple months ago and they were all the more eager to please her and do as she says.

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Amy stormed into her dorm room and threw her books on her desk. "Damnit, I'm freaking failing this class!" Her roommate Carey looked up at her, wide eyed, from her computer. "What class is it?" she asked, eyeing her rather angry friend. "Stupid Computer Science! I fucking hate it, but I need the stupid credit!" Amy snarled, her voice sharp.

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Anne was the typical all-American girl. She was smart with a sassy attitude. Her mother had raised to be a career driven woman, and she became just that. It wasn't long until she moved off to San Francisco in pursuit of a good education.

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I had just graduated at Wesley Women's Academy and along with five other girls was taking a summer course that was a combination of horseback riding and sex education. We had finished our morning ride and were standing in one of the barns dressed in our riding gear listening to Miss Chambers our sex teacher. She was a tall woman with a broad ass and huge tits. She wore her usual costume: comfortable shoes and a long, white lab coat over a knee length, blue skirt.

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My name is Dr. Matthew Dorhring. Samantha's father and I met almost 25 years ago while working as teaching assistants at the same institution where I am now a tenured professor. A few years ago, I took a sabbatical from the university during which I traveled and lived in different parts of the world and had missed seeing Samantha develop from child to adolescent. It wasn't until just before Samantha's high school graduation that I moved back to the states, and for the first time saw how beautifully she had grown and transitioned from a gangly adolescent into a nubile, sexy young woman, eager for life and new experiences.

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Jamie couldn't believe how she had gotten herself into this situation. The situation being that she was on all fours, licking the asshole of a tight-bodied Asian girl, while she was receiving the fucking of her life from a gorgeous Latina. It felt like that girl was going to split her in half with the strap-on that she was plowing into Jamie's sloppy wet cunt.

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It was during my first summer holiday since I'd gone to university when it happened. I had gone into town one Saturday afternoon to get some CDs, when I saw walking down the street towards me my French teacher from school. Generally I didn't really like meeting my old teachers, it was always a bit odd being treated normally by people who had been authority figures for me only a short time ago, and even if Mrs Woodcock (she was French, but had married an English guy)

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