Your erotic stories

It was one of the hottest summers on record and for the small town in central Illinois, that meant July temperatures in the mid to upper nineties was the norm. There were only two escapes from the heat; the air conditioned indoors or a pool and cool drinks. One evening, after a local band had provided some musical entertainment in the parking lot of a local bar and hotel, a group of friends were discussing what to do next. None of them at 10:30, was ready to call it a night.

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So there I was again, hanging out in my favourite pub on a busy Saturday night, talking to my buddy Zack, half-focused on him, half-focused on finding a good-looking guy to take home and fuck into oblivion. Yeah, I knew Zack wanted me, and the truth is that I wanted him, too, but neither one of us had ever acted on it. My rationale was: why ruin a perfectly good friendship just because a wet spot formed on my thong whenever I was around him?

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