Your erotic stories

Part 1: Christie at the Gas Station "Alright, I'll see you tomorrow!" said Christie Wilkins as she left her friends in the high school parking lot. She drove her small, hand-me-down, gremlin-like car toward the exit to the parking lot, stopping at the stop sign at the intersection.

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“You and a guest are cordially invited to attend a formal dinner party at the estate of Charles W. Meeks” Sara Miller could not believe that she had been invited to Mr. Meeks dinner party. She had been a receptionist for McCracken and Meeks for almost five years, but this was the first party that she had been invited to. She thought about who to bring and what to wear. She decided to call Cathy Collins, her oldest and dearest friend. Cathy was overjoyed at the thought of going to a formal dinner party.

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A couple of years ago, I took my wife and our two youngsters on a camping holiday to France. There we met up with a family who we’d met the year previously on a similar holiday and had booked to be at the same campsite together. The parents were older than my wife and I and had three kids, Rob 11, Emma 13 and Laura who had just turned 18.

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Amanda bit her lip and tried to stifle the sharp hiss of her breath, as she felt the cramp knotting her belly. It seemed worse than usual this month and it was all she could do to hold back the groan of pain. Desperately, she looked up at the clock on her office wall. The hands pointed to half past two, another hour and a half before she could finish for the day.

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I sat eating a simple grilled cheese and a bowl of potato soup. Well, perhaps not eating as I was enraptured by a woman sitting with another having lunch three tables away from me. Her friend had her back to me but I did not care. She was not the source of my attention. No, I was spellbound by the woman facing me. And because of that I was somewhat surprised.

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The muscle car jammed to a stop, pavement ripping into tires, making a shriek only slightly louder than, say, a 13-inch masonry blade tearing through highway concrete. Choking slightly as acrid smoke of burning rubber washed over me, I ran to the driver's window and quickly negotiated a ride.

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Kara and I walked side-by-side down the long stone stairs away from the Court House. We and done the same thing for quite a few weekdays; she had been staying with me in my big five bedroom house for two months since David's bail was revoked for drugs and alcohol. His big, young, strong body did not swagger as much when the judge handed down seven and a half to twenty for Murder II. He had stolen my car, my deceased wife's wedding rings and killed a woman while driving under the influence.

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Our flatmate Abby was back. She moved in last winter and we got on well together straight away. I felt the chemistry between us but before anything happened her scholarship came through and she went overseas to study. Now it was summer and Abby was back. She came through Thailand on the way home and looked tanned and fit. I sat in a chair and she sat opposite me on the couch, wearing a long blue hippie skirt that went all the way to the floor and a baby blue singlet.

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Even this late the party was in full swing. The smell of beer and sweat hung prominently in the air, and Dana was sweating profusely herself, while her face felt hot. A bit of fresh air was definitely called for. She made hasty excuses, and backed away from her group of friends, before wheeling her chair towards the wardrobe. She quickly picked through the jackets until she had located her own. Dana made her way towards the rather steep ramp. With a few good pushes, she managed to get to the top.

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"Fine!" Holly yells, as she collapses onto the couch. "Fine!" Chris yells back, as he goes out the door and slams it, hard. Holly huddles on the couch, grasping a pillow to her chest, sobbing her heart out. They just had their first real fight. She can't believe what he expects from her. How dare he assume she'd just go along with his request with no regard for her feelings on the matter.

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