Your erotic stories

The hum from the washing machines was a chorus of white noise drowning out the street sounds, the wail of sirens in the distance, the crazy-looking homeless man shouting profanities two doors up the sidewalk and the god-awful street rapper free-styling just outside the door of the 50 Cent Washeteria.

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Trying to keep the band together had been a right pain. With constant changes of personnel it was proving an impossible task. We'd just get the band fully rehearsed, when the singer would leave, or the drummer, or the keyboard player, and then we would have to start from scratch all over again. I was at the point of giving it all up when I was approached by Mark, who offered to manage and promote the band.

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The e-mail was brief: Please call George and Phoebe. I showed it to Gill. “Will you ring or shall I?” I asked. “Doesn’t matter.” she replied. “You call and I’ll join in on the extension if necessary.” “Sound good, do you reckon?” “It has been so far.”

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Pat dressed up for Halloween like I had never seen. She was a cross between a sexy Hooter’s cheerleader and a 100% slut. Starting from the bottom of her lovely legs, she had on a pair of white sneakers; her legs were bare with just a tan and so smooth and toned. The cheerleader shirt was Hooter’s orange and white and it was shorter than any cheerleader’s skirt I’d even seen.

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Hands and feet tied to the bed, I am completely vulnerable as I watch him approach with a blindfold. He places it over my eyes; the anticipation tortures me more than the restraints. I feel his tongue lick at the tip of my nipple, at the underside of my breast, and then slide along my ribs.

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I remember when my co-worker Tom and I finally arrived at our convention at Niagara Falls last year. We had been planning this trip for almost a year and if all went well we would have some sales contracts that would give us both a hefty commission. We got up early after breakfast and began setting up the small exhibit of contracting products.

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He watched her climb from the pool, and the moonlight and underwater lights made her skin glow as the water dripped from her. He was mesmerized watching her, he was often mesmerized watching her. She was tall for a woman with long toned legs and her stomach was flat and firm with muscle below full, natural breasts that were almost impossible on her small frame.

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"I'm gonna get a drink honey" John leaned down and kissed his wife, Janet who was sitting astride a swarthy man. Janet's hands were planted firmly on the man's chest and her arms squeezed her ample breasts into a gorgeous cleavage. "O.K Babe," Janet raised her face to kiss him. "Mmmmm that looks yummy." He slipped his finger into the cleft between her breasts.

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It was a Friday evening and everyone had left the office for the start of a long weekend. So many people with exciting plans and here I am sat working late, no one to share my time with. All the family had plans which should have meant a quiet weekend at home with a good book and a bit of pampering. So why am I feeling miserable, no noise, no kids, no hassle and no being the taxi service for 3 whole days.

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I was walking through the streets of the little Central American town, headed to one of its many markets. Founded by the Spanish over 500 years ago, it's nestled in a ring of mostly-dormant volcanoes. You can still see the occasional plume of steam and smoke escaping the crest of one or the other of them.

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