Your erotic stories

The sunshine is peeping through the windows, I'm curled up against you, my head nestled in your shoulder, your arms wrapped around me, and one of your hands is cupping my breast. We are deep in slumber.

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Jane sat at her office desk nervously looking at the package that the Fed-Ex man had just delivered. Checking her watch she moved a few papers around without studying them before jumping at the sound of her mobile phone bleeping at her. Slowly she opened it.

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Serene smirked at Garret in a suggestive manner, raising her arms and crossing them behind her back. She knew she was playing on dangerously thin ice, and a flash of Victor ran through her mind. What would he do if he knew she was hitting on Garret like some cheap village whore? She loved him, but Garret, and the memories of times past, set her on fire in ways that Victor never had. His hands alone were enough to make her want to drag him to the floor and ravage him, but then...she had a thing for hands.

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I awoke surprisingly refreshed after the excitement of the previous evening with Davinia and JJ. I could not believe my luck, not one, but TWO of them, and I little old me had fucked the pair of them. Holy shit, and what is more, they were not finished yet. So much for seminars being boring.

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I had just negotiated a new contract with the company I work for and part of the package was a new life insurance policy. Instead of paying more income tax on a pay rise I accepted the insurance policy.

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"Ah, the workmen are through for the day," Paige thought as she watched the men loading their pickups and preparing to leave. They were working to create a studio and large bedroom with attached bath out of what had been three small bedrooms upstairs in the big barn of a house she bought for a song because it was so far from town. They had been working for over a week, tearing down walls and running new wires and plumbing for the project.

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Mike decided to go to an auction on the outskirts of a quaint New Hampshire town. Since he had finally left his second wife, Liz, he had one idea in his head. He wanted to make his submissive and lover, Sara, his full time. There was only one problem with this idea. Sara was married.

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His hand came down again on her bare bottom in front of him. The slap was loud. She whimpered softly. The sting of his hand excited her and she felt the warmth of her secretions flood between her legs. Her flesh vibrated and teased her as she felt them resonate to her sex and sensitive breasts.

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I could feel his hot breath on my neck, teasing me in-between the nips he was leaving. My hand ran through his wavy brown hair, pulling him in demanding more. One hand was tangled in my hair, stopping the harsh brick from hurting me; the other hand brushed over my thigh as he held my leg up over his hip.

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If time could be recognized, then we would have no need for clocks or calendars. These things are metres set against a background of haze and dream. The truth of time is that we live it. We breathe in moments and release seconds to the atmosphere where they bound and prance, teasing us before disappearing completely. They taunt us with their ephemerity.

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