Your erotic stories

It begins with a look I suppose, a nod of the head, a turn towards the stairs, towards an unseen room, and in a moment I know I'll be following them to bed, though I'll wait a few minutes while they gather their things, make arrangements, have the final powwow, but I'll follow soon enough, up those stairs and down the hall, I'll knock gently, politely, on the door, can I come in,

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Sharon was beginning to think her friend wasn't going to meet her. She had been sitting at the bar for over an hour, having gotten there more than 30 minutes early. While she was waiting, she had a couple of drinks and had been flirting a little with some of the guys in the bar. Not really flirting so much as striking a pose now and then to make sure they could get a peek of a nipple here and her ass there.

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I don't remember my first months at the convent. They say it was trauma amnesia. I was 7 years old when I was left there after my parents were killed in a car accident. I can not complain about the life I had there. It was better then an orphanage. The sisters taught me everything that a girl should know. Cooking, cleaning, and traditional education. I grew up knowing I was loved. It was my eighteenth birthday when Mother Superior sat me down to explain that it was time for me to leave.

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Sometimes the way things work out can make you smile. Recent events in my life came together to bring my husband and myself some unexpected pleasures. I will start by introducing myself. My name is Addison Jeffries. I am 30 years of age, 5'10' and I've got long, wavy, auburn hair. I'm an attractive woman and slightly vain about my looks, so I work out daily and run and swim. I own a travel agency and can afford to dress in the latest, form-flattering fashions.

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Shari awakened later with a feeling of laziness. There she was on a boat with Tony and Mychelle still naked from the thrashing she took earlier. As she started to head towards the rear of the boat, she saw Mychelle on her knees before her. Shari saw her wrists bound in thick leather cuffs that were attached together by clips.

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Dijon sat comfortably in one of the two wing backed chairs in front of the desk. She had one knee crossed over the other, her short skirt showing several miles of her famous long legs. Her hands gripped the arms of the chair and she kept tensing and pulling with her arms. She was nervous for some reason and it showed.

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Living in a small town certainly has some great advantages ... and also a few disadvantages. One of those disadvantages is gossip control, or, the lack there of. Having a really tight bond within your circle of close friends is about the only way gossip can be controlled ... well, to some degree, anyway. Our little town, Websterville, had four girls, all seniors at the P. T. (actually Percival Taylor) Webster High School who were absolutely inseparable.

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Alison got out of her car and took a breath. She was tingling with excitement. Tonight was Beltane and she was going to be initiated into the "adults only" branch of her coven. Alison had been raised in a pagan Goddess worshiping tradition by her mother. She and her sister had attended rituals since they were children. However, there was a big difference between dancing around a maypole and what was going to happen tonight.

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The day dragged on and on. Claire watched as the last few minutes ticked away. She had already organized her affairs and was now just waiting until she could go. It was Friday, so the traffic would be horrible, but at least she had a few days off. She longed to be home in her quiet apartment. Eventually, the clock struck five. She walked briskly down to the parking garage and started her car. She hurried and managed to get five minutes down the freeway when she ran into grid locked traffic. She sighed and turned up the music.

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Sara came home from work late, tired and cranky. It had been a long day at the end of a long week, and her feet hurt as she kicked off her shoes at the door and slumped into her favorite chair, her briefcase dropped at her side. Jeff, her husband, saw her sitting there from the kitchen. "Rough day?" He asked. "I don't even want to talk about it." She said. Both in their 30's, they had only been married a few years. But they got along well and shared similar tastes where it really mattered.

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