Your erotic stories

"I'm having stupid thoughts." "Like what?" "Like that Tom's seeing someone else." "What? Surely not." Amy nodded, stepping away from the coffee machine. "But, he's not like that." Kay said, inserting her coins for a cup of her own. "You've got your paws on one of the decent ones."

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Jordan was being tortured. It was the day before Valentine's and Glen was torturing her with her gift. He wasn't torturing her with intrigue and suspense. On the contrary, she knew exactly what she was getting. She had known for a long time, and he had purchased it a long time ago. It arrived a full two weeks before Valentine's Day. But rather than give it to her, he taunted her with it. He constantly flaunted it in front of her but wouldn't let her have it.

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Today was my day off. It was about seven at night, and I had just gotten around to taking a shower. After reading for a few hours, playing some old games on my Super Nintendo, and responding to a couple of work-related e-mails, it seemed prudent to wash away the stank of laziness before my current girlfriend returned home.

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1. "Nora!" My wife clapped her hand over her mouth reflexively. "Uh...." I turned away from the forest nymph tracing lazy circles on my chest to see what had caught my wife's attention. "Jocelyn, what's a respectable woman like you doing here?" Our young neighbor greeted my wife with her usual playful cheeriness. "I ... uh ... we ... uh ..." My wife was at a loss for words. She who was so facile with the English language could not form a complete sentence.

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The Teenage Asian Witch Meets the Fat Fairy and Gets Poked in the Rear Emi & Bet hadn't done anything for Halloween in several years. However, this year they had to work at the mall, hand out treats to little monsters, and close-up shop. When the night was done they even had a bag full of candy to take home with them.

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I turned a whole different shade of red as I pulled my card out of my wallet. Seventy-three dollars never felt so embarrassing and I was more than thankful that the clerk was a young, beautiful woman. Maybe she would understand; then again, maybe not and her judgment was withheld behind her professional smile.

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Needing a break from things, I treated myself to a weekend in a luxury hotel on the coast. Arriving on Friday afternoon, I showered and dressed and went down to the lounge. It was quiet. Looking for company and some holiday fun, I left the hotel and strolled down the main street of the town, enjoying the warm evening air. There was music coming from a run-down looking pub and I went in. The bar was crowded and there was a band playing in the lounge. This was more like it.

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Part of me hates this man, whom I'll call "X" for now. We didn't get along as a couple, which is why we broke up in the first place. I didn't even hate him when we broke up- it was very amicable, the old ‘we're just in very different places right now,' blah blah blah… but very soon after the split, I found myself fantasizing, over and over again, about the sex we used to have. It became totally consuming, to the point that I finally found myself breaking down and calling him on the phone one day.

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There it was, shamelessly hanging out for the whole world to see. Like a big, denim-clad moon, just waiting for some enterprising astronaut to rocket aboard. Carrie bent fully over, kneeling in the vinyl seat and leaning out the passenger car window. Her ass swayed in counterbalance to her waving arm as she shouted goodbyes to her friends on the train platform. Her tight jeans struggled like hell to contain her flesh, but were losing the battle.

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"M...m....Melons..." My stammered exclamation hung there in the laundry room as the young woman and I stared at each other. I could not for the life of me recall her real name. She was, after all, not my son's girlfriend. If anything, she was a hanger-on, an occasional presence drinking beer or occupying a lawn chair while the boys worked on trucks. All the guys just called her "Melons" because of the balloon like breasts she so proudly paraded in front of her.

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