Your erotic stories

If you have never been to Copenhagen, I swear you should go. It is a truly wonderful city by the sea. The inhabitants are hospitable, fun loving and to a surprisingly abundant degree, exceptionally good looking. The legend says that centuries ago, Vikings kidnapped the most beautiful women during their conquering visits to Europe, and deposited them back in Scandinavia to raise their offspring, resulting in the tendency for tall, blonde, healthy and attractive generations to follow.

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The day started off like any other Saturday: I woke up, nursing a little hangover, walked into my kitchen and made some coffee. It was a bright day outside and somewhere around 10 o'clock. I slowly got dressed and made myself a little breakfast, picked up my laptop and set off sending some emails I'd neglected the day before. That went on for about an hour or two when there was a sudden knock on the door. I looked up, perplexed, and slowly walked to the door, hearing the knocking again.

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"Truth or dare?" asks Cristina. "Truth," Sammy answers. There'd be plenty of time for wild antics later. The slumber party was just getting started. "Okay..." Cristina looks around the room at her friends mischievously grinning, feigning serious consideration with a finger to her chin. She pauses extra long to build suspense and takes a swig of her wine cooler before posing her brilliant question: "Spit or swallow?"

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"What the hell do you mean eight hundred bucks?" I practically yelled into the phone. "It's a fucking water pump!" My mechanic gave me some song and dance about having to pull a load of shit off the engine to get to the broken part. "Fuck, dude," I said. "Where the hell am I getting that kind of money?" He gave me some more song and dance.

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The identity of the man who purchased the mansion on the hill that rose above any landmarks for a mile around was a mystery to every resident of Langley Street, the street that led motorists and pedestrians alike to the private estate and the foot of its sweeping front drive. As much as rumor could provide, the new owner was a young man in his early twenties, obviously a man who had recently come into good fortune, either by his own merit or by luck.

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Part 3. I went down to breakfast after a quick shower with my mind still working out some ideas. Dee and Kristen were already gone, probably at cheer practice since it was Saturday morning. As I ate my cereal, I was wondering what the range of the portal spell would be. I carefully lifted my book, and slowly pushed my finger into the portal. I could tell it was still working, but I felt nothing with my finger, even though I was in it over an inch. "Crap!" I said, as I realized she must not be wearing the same panties. I should have known that, since the girls often changed clothes 2 or 3 times a day.

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It was a warm Saturday night in June. I was preparing for my best friend Tasha's graduation party and I'd chosen a short white sundress, one that that hugged my boobs and barely covered the top of my thighs. It was my last ditch effort to seduce her before we both left for college. With her beautiful cocoa skin, pouty lips and round curves, I hadn't been able to stop fantasizing about her for the last year.

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Starting a successful home business is a hard thing, that's for sure. There were many obstacles and difficulties when I started, but now the 'Watson & Co.' is a popular branding. Being an entrepreneur is not easy, let alone when the '& Co.' part of your brand is nonexistent. That's right. There is no one else helping in managing the company but myself. Alexander Watson worked solo.

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On the bus ride home from college Amy was unconsciously teasing as usual. There weren't ever many people on the bus and since I was the only one she knew, we usually ended up sat together in deep discussion about life and experiences. She teased with stories of what her boyfriend Nick liked her to do and all the things that really turned her on, not to mention the fact that now it was summer I couldn't help peeking down the gap in her blouse at her pert breasts and the way her short summer skirt displayed almost all of her athletic thighs; thus leaving me to try and cover the tent being pitched in my trousers.

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As a new college professor, I was still getting used to being back on a campus. I had spent a few years after graduating in private industry before deciding to go back for my doctoral studies. During those studies, I knew that my calling lied in teaching and started looking for a university position.

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