Your erotic stories

Jennifer sat in the coffee house, waiting. Her hands kept touching the cup in front of her or her hair - reflexively adjusting it, stealing glances at herself in the floor to ceiling window by her table. Men walked by with furtive glances. This was new. She got her share of attention – early thirties, slim, pale blue eyes, and shoulder length auburn hair just like she wore in her early twenties.

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I knew my roommate was into some strange things, but I didn't know what to make of the over-sized diaper I found in her drawer one afternoon when I was looking for a shirt she'd borrowed from me. Cara was like that; she never returned anything, and I've always thought it rather childish, but not diaper-wearing childish.

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Charlotte’s Web The train rattled over the points, slowing, and I looked up from my magazine. I could see we were finally drawing into the station at Edinburgh, and the sudden realisation that this was finally it made my heart beat faster. What would Lisa be like? Would she like me?, I thought. After all these months of eMail, phone calls and meeting in chat rooms, we would finally meet.

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She saw him sitting across the bar. He was alone, probably the only single guy in the bar, although the chances that he was actually single and not just looking for something extra-curricular seemed rather remote to her. Though not conventionally attractive, there was something about the dark eyes and the arch of his brows that attracted her attention, and would not let it go. In fact, she was so absorbed in the study of him that she was not aware her date had returned from the bathroom, or wherever he had been, until he spoke her name.

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Kim kept busy gardening all morning so she wouldn't be thinking about Danny coming home, Mark's mammoth cock or even Janet's sexy hosed body. She didn't want to think about anything that would get her aroused. She was still feeling the effects of the wild sexual encounter she had yesterday evening, and her poor pussy was finally beginning to feel like its old self again.

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By the time the cab got to the Farley mansion it was already well past midnight, and I could tell the party was already going rapidly going downhill into that depressing post-New Year's Eve degeneracy and drunkenness. I usually don't do New Year's Eve for just that reason, but since I already had to be downtown for my publisher's publicity bash, I figured I'd might as well stop in at the Farley's and pay my respects.

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You're having a long day at work and you text me, bored. "Hey, today sucks" you message me, but you feel lonely when you get no response. As you clean out an empty patient's room, you sense motion from the corner of your eye.

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I had found my wife's stash of pictures, mostly women missing one or both legs, a few men at the bottom of the pile. I resisted letting her know, instead I spent time searching the net to learn about her fascination. There are hundreds of fictional stories about people wanting to be with amputees, but I stumble upon a few where some actually want a limb amputated.

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Lily was annoyed when she stepped through the front door. As much as she enjoyed hanging out with her girlfriends, the constant gossip and drama was grating. Holly was by far the worst of them, and while she was fun to hang around and sweet in her own way, she wasn't above calling a friend a cow behind her back, either out of jest or spite.

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Gary hooked his thumb vaguely in the direction of the room that he and Kimberly had converted to a nursery. "Kim's feeding the li'l one," he said. "She'll be out in a few minutes." He often referred to his new baby as "the li'l one." In fact her name was Emily, but at six months, I suppose "the li'l one" is as good a tag as any. Then with his other hand he hooked a thumb toward the hallway that lead to his music studio. "Sheila, I wanted to show you the folio of Bach etudes I just got."

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