Your erotic stories

Virginia hated her body. She was a big woman, with hips and curves who saw her self as fat. She tried to lose weight, but it never was as easy as all those commercials made it. At times she felt ugly and undesirable. Not that she was a slob; she dressed nice and practical. She would never let herself fall that far. She just was not happy with her body and felt that no one would ever find her attractive.

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The band's manager turned to Erin and smiled. "The guys like you." Erin's brown eyes lit up. "Do you think so?" This would be her fantasy come true. "I know so," the tall, graying man stated and handed the young girl a cloth pass marked All Access in bold white lettering. "After the show," he grinned, "knock on the bus." If she had won the lottery, Erin wouldn't have been happier than she was at that moment.

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It all began with a conversation. Five friends sat at a table in the food court at the local mall: Jerry, Amanda, Evie, Zane and Linda. They had all been friends since high school, and though it was almost eight years and several different experiences later, getting together once a month to go see movies was still something they made sure to schedule.

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I woke up to her scratching my back softly. I loved that feeling. "Are you awake?" she asked me. "No," I moaned. My head was killing me. We'd been out late the night before. Several glasses of wine with dinner and then a few more drinks with friends. My head was aching and I was tired but I could feel my spirit rising as she traced her nails across my back.

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Here's another story for you guys that's been bouncing around inside my head for a while. Hope you enjoy. All characters are over the age of eighteen. Hi, my names Richard Williams, Rich to my friends. I live in southern California with my mom Stacy. My dad died when I was too young to remember. The accident that killed my dad, while tragic, was made less so by the size of the settlement his company paid my mom.

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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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I was watching a movie the other day, with academy award level acting by the way, where a housewife fucks the plumber when he came by to "fix" the pipes. It reminded me of a role playing situation, I found myself in quite unexpectedly one night. It involves me, a certain man of whom I had a very active sex life with (two guesses for my fans), and

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I had recently moved to Denver with my husband after he got a job as a systems manager at the new Denver airport. Matt and I had been married for just over three years and, frankly, I must say that our marriage had lost much of the luster it had at its start. Matt always was, and still is, a very decent guy and he's a good provider. Though I do my share by teaching modern dance and ballet classes at a dance academy. I had hoped to become a professional dancer myself, but that didn't work out.

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I have always felt fortunate that as a man with a smoking fetish, my desires can be realized in public. I am always on the lookout for beautiful smoking women and for as long as I can remember I have been drawn to this erotic image. It often fills my fantasies and I am thankful that I have had the good fortune of exploring this powerful fetish with past girlfriends.

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I think the song goes "Deadlines and Commitments. What to leave in, what to leave out...." I live that line. As soon as I meet one commitment another deadline comes along. It cost me my marriage because I eat, sleep and breathe work. My life was really boring. That changed one night.

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