Your erotic stories

The first time Kevin Roach was mistaken for Tommy Ross he was in the White Lion. The mistake's maker approached him when he was at the bar, getting in a round of drinks for himself and his workmates. She had bobbed red hair and neat, pretty features and she wore a T-shirt displaying her allegiance to the rock band White Noise.

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Fuck me! Fuck me!" April's words made my cock pulse as she hissed into my ear, her finger nails digging deeper into my back with each thrust of my hips. The room filled with the wet slapping sound of our sweaty bodies colliding as she urged me on. "Harder," she moaned, her legs wrapped tightly around my body.

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Mom and I hadn't been up to visit Aunt Sandy, Uncle Bob and Cindy in three years, but I hardly had to wonder what Cindy would look like: our mothers were identical twins, and Cindy looked just like me: tall, slim, redheaded, and small-chested. Well, not exactly: seeing her with her hair cut short was a surprise. So that's how I'd look with short hair, I thought.

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I stood in front of my bedroom door and I struck a pose. I had already received several compliments about the dress I had chosen to wear for our special night. I was glad of that, as it had cost me a week's pay. When I showed it to my date, the smile made it worth every penny. My high heels had invoked a similar reaction, making the hundreds of dollars I spent on those worthwhile. I invested a lot to look good for my date, but the end result would be so worth it.

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In my experience it is more men than women who are into peeing. But in my case it was quite the opposite -- I never fantasized about it and if you had asked me I would have been disgusted. Here is how that changed. Firstly let me tell you something about myself. My name is Peter and I'm 35. This happened when I was 30. I'm 5'11, with dark hair and a muscular body.

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The education of a young woman.... "No, I've got to finish up my term paper," Christie said in response to her mother asking her about her plans for the night. "Well, in case you do go out, make sure you lock the place up because your father and I won't be back until late," Toni Platte said before leaving her daughter's room. "Okay." "Oh, and your grandfather might stop by." "What?"

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I sat on the wide polished piano bench. Late afternoon sun cast striped shadows as it streamed through half opened blinds; golden motes of dust danced silently in the air. He sat, as he always did, next to me. Years ago, I had begged my mother to learn to play – we had a baby grand at home – and she finally relented.

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I teach at a small university in the Midwest, in a small town, the usual place where gossip spreads faster than the common cold. Those of you who live in one know exactly what I mean. My department moved into our new building after a year of construction and got two new secretaries about the same time. Our secretaries used to be spread all over the building, but now were concentrated in one room.

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My name is Frank, and I'm a thirty three year old, six foot tall white dude with sandy blond hair that dangles around my shoulder. I consider myself an open-minded heterosexual with occasional bisexual urges. On a recent trip to Peru, I discovered more about my sexuality than I had ever imagined.

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The sudden chime of the doorbell startled them, and they stared at each other. The doorbell rang again and Rhonda frowned. "Better pull out, baby. I'll see who it is and get rid of them. You just keep that lovely cock warm, or even better, get him nice and hard again, ready for seconds." Jerry pulled back, glancing down. His prick was wet with their mixed fluids.

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