I wound my way up the hilly terrain leading to Penn State University. I’d made this drive a number of times in the last year. Maybe I hadn’t made it enough.
I had been summoned–there’s no other word for it. Michaela, my girlfriend, had called me earlier in the week and just about demanded I come up for the weekend. “Ian, you’d better get up here! Now!” She mentioned something about Halloween parties and such, but there was another undercurrent to her entreaties. I wondered if this was it. You know, it. The end. Read more »
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Palash stared across the dining hall at the stunning hottie who was sitting at a table with her friends. She was laughing at something. He was captivated by her beauty; her big blue eyes, her slender neck, her pouting lips. He watched as she brought her fork up to her mouth. She wrapped her lips around the piece of pasta on the end and pulled the fork free. It was a simple, everyday act but Palash’s mind raced, and his groin reacted.
“Come on, dude, get a move on. Some of us actually want to get something to eat.”
Annapurna’s words shook Palash out of his trance. “Sorry.”
“No need to be sorry, Palash,” said Manjit, Palash’s other best friend. “Just choose something. It’s all shit so it doesn’t matter what.” Read more »
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I hadn’t seen Narmada since her wedding two years ago. I sorely missed her at first. Now I suffered a dull ache only a few times a week when her memory floated like a ghost from the closets in my mind.
Narmada was my daughter’s best friend. I watched her grow up. Over the years, we developed a very close relationship which seemed to be more than father daughter, more than teacher student. We weren’t lovers, but our relationship was more meaningful than a one night stand or short affair. It was precious to me and, I hoped, to her.
She was engaged at the time my marriage fell apart. It was then we drifted apart, each caught in our own worlds. I missed her more than she knew, more than I knew before I saw her today.
I hadn’t been to the Oberoi mall in six months. Why I was drawn there that Saturday, I don’t know. Whatever the reason, I was wandering toward the Oxford bookstore. I saw her and my heart skipped a beat. Read more »
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18 year old Sandhya was sitting under the large oak tree that grew on top of one of the rolling hills of the Mumbai City College campus. She found she enjoyed that spot as it was one of the few fairly secluded places on campus, but still she could see across a good section of the buildings.
So it startled the girl to hear a voice.
“Hi. I think we have math together.”
Sandhya squinted as she looked up. There stood a boy. Young man, she guessed would be the right word. It took her a minute for her eyes to adjust and recognition to take place. Read more »
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Have you ever noticed how little things — a smell — a texture — a song, can bring back a memory so vivid you’d swear you were there, in that moment, once again? I heard a song on an oldies radio station this afternoon and my thoughts sped immediately back to the autumn of my junior year in high school.
These days I’d be called a nerd; back then I was just a little weird. I played with electronics, knew how to sabotage a classroom movie projector, and got good grades in science and math. Yup, a nerd before the word was invented. I wasn’t at all experienced in dating. Sure, I’d gone to a few school dances the preceding year, and I met a girl at one as a kind of informal date. But I’d never done the whole “pick her up, do something, take her home, dare I say kiss her goodnight” dating thing. Even at the dances, I was way too inhibited to let loose and really enjoy myself. I’d usually hang around the edges with the other guys who couldn’t dance and spent the time trying to pretend that we really didn’t care. What a lie. We cared a lot; we just didn’t know what to do about it.
Lack of transportation can be a big obstacle to dating as well. Who wants your parents or older brother to be your driver on a date? I’d gotten my license last May, but my parents were very cautious and didn’t let me drive with anyone but family in the car until mid-summer. Being the oldest, by a few months, of my group of buddies, going double hadn’t been an option either. Read more »
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Hello to all readers.This is the 1st time I am writting my story. I am a regular reader. I am 22 years old now. I started getting interested in sex and the world of porn when I was 18yrs through the stories that I used to hear from my friends in school. We used to fantasize about our beautiful and hot sexy teachers who used to teach us. This incident happened when I was just 18 years old in train while I was travelling to Kerala.
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Mira was in trouble and she knew it. Her rebellious nature had finally gotten her in real trouble. She’d taken a necklace out of old Shiv Mandir while the pandit was out gathering fruit and she’d gotten caught with it. Now she was being called in front of the village wise men for punishment. Mira stared at the entrance of the cave where the wise men sat each day to settle disputes, answer questions, tell people when to plant and all of the other things the wise men decided for her people. She’d never been in that dark place, and had never wanted to.
She had to duck when she went in. Mira was tall for one of her people. She was also slim. She could run faster than any of the boys, though when she did that now her breasts sometimes hurt. They had grown a lot in the last year or two and stuck out from her slim chest in what she thought was an ugly and misshapen way. The soft cotton tunic she wore shifted and slid over her long brown nipples as she ducked. That was another thing she didn’t understand. Those nipples caused her more trouble than anything else about her body. They were always in her consciousness because they always felt so … so … good. She’d been seized by the urge to rub and squeeze them a lot lately, and when she did it caused the most lovely sensations to run through her body. It also made her feel … well … good between her legs. Read more »
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I am Aakash. I am in Delhi for quite some time. I am 27. 6ft. Avg built with boy next door features. Let’s start with the story. Last month, my company sent me to jaipur on a job assignment for one month. I came to jaipur without any expectations as I knew that these small towns can never give the excitement and fun of Metro cities. My stay was arranged in posh hotel near railway station (can’t tell the name). Initial 3-4 days were very boring but it all changed on first Friday. There was a small party on the client site where I met Neha. A common friend introduced us to each other. She was damn hot man…. Dusky but sharp features, 34-24-34, Capri type jeans and one shoulder top.
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“Okay, this time next week we’ll start looking at Raj Kapor’s Mera Naam Joker, and its impact on contemporary Indian cinema. I’ll expect you all to be familiar with the text by then. And I don’t mean watching the film a couple of times. Read the book, people. Read the book.”
The scraping of chairs on the floor caused a thunderous din as the class stood. Their chatter raised the noise level further still as they stuffed equipment into bags and prepared to leave the lecture theatre. At the centre of the crowd that slowly filed towards the exit, with so many people in such a small space, it wasn’t unusual for Anahita to feel bodies pressed against her, but she could have sworn that at least two of her classmates actually grabbed her backside and squeezed. And was it her imagination, or did someone try to slip a hand under her skirt?
“Anahita,” the lecturer called as she passed the front desk. “Just a quick word, if you don’t mind.” Read more »
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It was early July in Shankargaon, Maharashtra. My family and I had just returned from our Diwali visit with our cousins up at Thane, just outside of Mumbai. I’d had a great time that weekend, firing off two big bags of fireworks that my uncle had bought for us. I’m talking cherry bombs and roman candles here, not the sissy stuff that they call fireworks today. This was back in 1998, that I’m talking about. I remember everything about that summer because it all started for me with that trip up to Mumbai.
I had gotten my very first consensual feel from a girl. Rohini Raut was her name, and titties were her claim to fame. Big ones, and she’d let you feel them if you bought her an ice cream. I bought her a Corneto and took her behind the Mall changing room and played with those big titties the whole time she was licking that cherry flavoured ice cream. She had on a one-piece black bathing suit and she’d only let you play with them from outside her bathing suit. It was a hot day, and she was a very quick eater of ice cream, but it was still the best money I’d ever spent on a girl. Read more »
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Sharon and I grew up in the same neighborhood and attended the same schools. It was always Sharon and Jason. She was all my firsts, eagerly taken, eagerly given. More importantly, she was the first woman who loved me and whom I loved. You never forget your first love. I’ll never forget Sharon. We pledged undying love to each other from the time we were thirteen.
Things change. After high school graduation, she went to Europe for the summer before attending a college back east. I was enrolled in our state university. Europe and back east was a ploy by her parents to separate us. I knew that the moment she told me. I was angry: angry at them for separating us and angry at Sharon for acquiescing to her banishment.
I loved her. And I loved sex with her. Sharon was hot, full of sexual energy and desire which she directed at the man in her life. I’d been that man since her sexual beginnings. I wanted to be that man forever. Back east, she found a new man, some guy she met at school. Eight weeks into the school year, she was pregnant and married. Sharon was gone from my life. Read more »
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“Flight 555 now leaving for Albuquerque,” the loud speaker announced.
Bag and briefcase in hand, I joined the throng at the gate. The woman I’d been watching was a few passengers behind me.
She was an attractive woman but not unusually so. In fact, nothing was unusual about her except her body language. That spoke volumes. Eyes glued to the laptop in front of her, she’d squirmed in her seat. Her mouth would slowly open. Her eyes would widen and she’d blush furtively before glancing up to see if she were being watched. Then, she’d focus on the laptop again to repeat the cycle.
She could be doing only one thing – reading an erotic story. And she was aroused.
If her secret was reading erotica, mine was writing it. As I watched her in the terminal, a story bubbled in my mind. Read more »
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Everyone in the Sharma Kachodiwala, a favorite campus eatery, could see that Akash and Devika were very much in love. When they danced a slow dance, and they never missed one, their bodies fit like clothing. She would rest her head on his shoulder and do something with his ear, either whispering or nibbling. He always had his hands firmly ensconced on her perfectly formed ass, making him the envy of every male in the room.
Those that recognized her, and knew her reputation as the untouchable legendary Ice Queen, could only marvel at her transformation. She certainly was anything but icy now. The way she rubbed her generous breasts against his chest and ground her pelvis into his, it was a marvel that he managed to survive an entire dance with dignity intact. Not that either of them were immune, far from it. Akash sat down quickly at the end of the dance to conceal a massive erection. Devika excused herself to “powder her nose.”
When she returned, she slid in behind the table next to him. She reached in her purse and nonchalantly handed him a small bundle of pink nylon. If he hadn’t guessed from the color and material, a distinctive heady scent announced that he was holding in his hands a freshly worn and very damp pair of panties. Not to be outdone by her brazen public presentation, Akash lifted the damp garment to his nose and inhaled deeply before placing it in his pocket. He took this gift as an invitation to a private one man party under her skirt as, in fact, it was meant to be. Read more »
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You’ve seen me around college, and we’ve made eye contact, but nothing more. So when I walk out of the lift in the library, you smile as I look at you. I smile in return and you resume your studying. We share a management class, so you know I’m here for the position paper we all have due at the end of the week. Returning to your notes, you lose sight of me.
You look around for the book that your notes mention, but it’s not on the desk with you. You study your notes again and get the reference number. As you gaze up at the stacks, you quickly realize it’s only a few shelves away, in the corner behind you.
You find the shelf, and as you reach for the book, you feel me, close to you, closer than I’ve ever been. You can smell my cologne and feel my presence, the heat of my body washing over you. You freeze at the shelf, hand on the book, wondering what I’ll do.
“You’re so beautiful” I murmur in your ear, nipping at your earlobe. “And you know it.” Read more »
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Varun’s birthday party, the previous Saturday, had gone very well. As expected, the food was excellent. I certainly knew the menu by heart. Varun also had an extensive selection of single malts, and I got to sample a few that I hadn’t tried before. Despite the fact that Varun’s wife of 20 years had left him, six months before, the house and decorations were up to his usual standards. In their relationship, he was the one with the love of all things birthday.
In addition to Varun, the food, and the extensive holiday decorations, I was sort of a fixture at the party. I’ve been there every year, I’ve got an outgoing personality, I’m reasonably attractive, and I can tell a good story. So people remember me from year to year, whether they see me during the intervening months or not.
For the first time in the 13 years that Varun had hosted the party, I went stag. I’ve never been married, but for every other party, I’ve had at least a female friend I could take, if not a serious girlfriend. But not this year. I don’t know whether I was fed up with dating, or simply enjoyed having my life to myself. Regardless of the reason, I was alone at the party, and so was Varun. He made a big deal of it, but I actually enjoyed it. Despite being 10 years older than me, Varun is looking for a 20-something sugar baby. I’m not really looking. At least, I’m not as serious about it as Varun. Read more »
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