Your erotic stories

It was a fine Saturday morning, warm sunshine, and light breezes bringing scents of spring flowers. Unbeknown to me, my real sexual awakening would begin later that day. I dressed in some loose fitting jeans and a bulky sweatshirt that made my petite frame look bigger than I am. I splashed on some Erotique, pulled by blonde hair into a ponytail, then raced down to the shops. Like most other Saturdays, the routine of doing my shopping and running errands had begun.

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To say that a month ago I was, on the face of it, prim and proper would be an understatement. Tim and I (Jane), met in our first year at high school and were inseparable from that time on and I guess it was always assumed by ourselves and our families that we would get married. Tim was everything I could have ever wanted - the proverbial tall, dark and handsome athletic sort, not to mention incredibly wealthy, once he had established himself in the family law firm which his grandfather had founded.

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The cabbie looked at me knowingly as I handed over his fare. I just smirked in return. He knew what a girl dressed like I was , what I was after and so did I. I was dressed like a dirty, fucking slut for good reason -- I was a dirty, fucking slut. I had come to this shattering realisation in the twelve months since my eighteenth birthday party (sucking off four different guys as a present to yourself can bring that realisation you know) and ever since I had realised how badly I craved first sex and then as kinky and as filthy sex as could be imagined.

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"How did I get myself into this mess?" I thought to myself as I lay there on the bottom bunk, in my new home for awhile. I jail cell in the State Penitentiary, with 'Terry the Terror' as my new roommate. My nightmare started three days ago when I decided to buy some weed. I had went to a seedy part of town just looking for a little weed, nothing more.

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Life was good for a marauder. Here they sat -- circled around a bonfire, roaring and laughing, a successful week of raiding and plundering behind them -- now with beautiful, buxom wenches riding their cocks. It had taken quite some effort for these great warriors to arrive at this place with such bounty.

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The bedroom was filled with the constant yet broken sounds of bed springs squeaking under the rhythmic thrusts of a man into his woman. But it wasn't the bed making the noise; it was Cindy who groaned intermittently with sharp, feminine 'coos' and 'ahhs' that were neither exaggerated nor too quiet to discern. Matching her steady pattern of moans and no doubt causing them was the driving of Carl's rigid seven inches into that sweet spot between Cindy's thighs.

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Thinking back on that first time with Julie was enough to nearly push me over the edge all by itself. As I eased up and stopped at the next traffic light, I slid my hand between my legs and began to slip two fingers inside my leaking pussy. This time, I was so hot that I almost wished someone would see me. The anticipation, the dread, the memory of her sweet young body all combined to put me in that zone where I just needed to cum.

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She was 5'5" in sneakers and had legs for miles. Creamy white skin dotted with freckles stretched over a small frame and topped with flaming red hair, she was every boy's wet dream. And on Fridays, when she wore that cheerleader's uniform, she was half the girls' wet dream, too.

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