Your erotic stories

The French door clicked open as she slid out to the balcony to steal away from the party. The sheer white curtains whipped in the brisk wind as she crept away from the stodgy crowd. The wives had stared at her like they always do. Their eyes were drawn to the art of Olivia tattoo spread seductively in ink across her lower back. The blue velvet dress Johnny had bought dipped too low to hide it. Sweet Johnny had always loved her tattoo.

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I had taken Friday off work with the intention of going to Cobblers Beach for the first time this summer, and was pleased when it turned out to be a hot, sunny day. I got the bus there, arriving at around 11am, and as I made my way down the rocky slope which leads to it, there was as usual a tight feeling of anticipation in my stomach.

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Susie could feel the Reverend's eyes burned a path up and down her slender form as he stood in the doorway, waiting to be invited in. They started at her auburn hair, tied back into a one-foot braided ponytail, flicked casually over one shoulder.

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My husband and I were in the process of moving out of a tiny apartment in the city and remodelling an old farm house about thirty miles from the beltway. It actually made him closer to work, and neither of us wanted to raise a child while living in an apartment in the middle of the state capitol. We were finally seriously discussing children after being married for eight years.

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I was so glad to be on the way home. It wasn't a particularly long or difficult date; I was just ready to be home – home to my loving wife of fifteen years. I know it's a cliché, but my wife really is my best friend. They say that a strong marriage is built on good communication. Well, we have a very strong marriage. We talked about everything – all the time. We would send each other short e-mails or text messages several times a day and usually when my wife came home from work we would often sit on the couch just talking for 30-45 minutes as we decompressed (I get home an hour before she does most days).

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We met our new male friend on an adult swinging site. His name is Steve and his profile stated that he is almost the same age as we are and like us interested in meeting men, woman and couples. His physical attributes say that he is a six foot two big man with sandy blonde hair and blue eyes. He has an open mind and is not looking for any specific type of woman, but more one with an attitude that is passionate, open minded and wanting to enjoy life to the fullest.

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If you will recall from my last story An Unexpected Encounter, I recently met Tiffany, a nineteen year-old sophomore, who attends the same university as me. Tiffany is absolutely gorgeous, as I mentioned in the last story. Just as a reminder, I will tell you that Tiffany is about five-five and weighs 115 lbs, and she has the most gorgeous set of legs I've ever seen on a woman. She also has long, chestnut brown hair and striking dark-colored eyes.

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It's fair to say that Sue and I were close, possibly even closer than sisters. We'd been friends since we were 9 or 10 and 15 odd years later we were still inseparable. In fact the events of the last year had made us even closer still. I'd been shocked when Sue had announced she was getting married. I understand her reasons now. The fact that Keith's a really nice guy was probably the least of them! But three years ago, if you'd asked me, I'd've said that Sue was the last person who would settle down to a life of domestic bliss.

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The rhythm of your steps on the stairs announces your presence and I look up from chopping the peppers as you unlock the latch. Still dusted with flour from work at the bakery, you look just as juicy as that day last fall when I picked you up at the gym. You slip the bandanna off your head and shake free the mop of red-gold curls it contains. "I got the stuff you wanted from the market. Angelo is bringing it up." I raise an eyebrow, wondering what you are up to. That impish look is all over your face, and your cheeks are flushed. Girl, don't I know that look!

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My dad was always working hard to give me what I wanted and needed. Since my mom died he'd been overly protective but super nice. Every summer since I got into high school, I would work at his tiny little taco shop around the corner from our house. It was very successful and every summer dad was opening up a new one. He still left me working at the old shop with the men I called uncles. I was always a skinny little kid and half the time people confused me for a boy.

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