Your erotic stories

Neeta stared out of the window of the coach, the mountain air cool against her warm face. As the wind fanned her face she felt all her troubles falling away far into the depths of the valley below. Looking towards the mountains, she fervently hoped that this holiday would revive her sagging spirits and confidence in herself.

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The morning is so bright and clear. The sounds of the birds playing in trees could reach me from where I'm sitting under a huge oak tree. The park is still not crowded as it's still early for most people to come out. The sound of the birds and the gentle breeze coming from the trees combined to put me in a peaceful mood, which is exactly what I need.

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The scent of cooked turkey still lingered in kitchens across America and the shops and stores were already decorated for Christmas; the coffee shop where Carol sat being no exception. Disconsolately sipping her latte, she didn't feel in a very celebratory mood. The promise of employment that had motivated her to leave home and move to the city hadn't materialized and now she was homesick, low on funds and still job hunting.

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I knew I was close to orgasm, knew that she knew it too and that that knowledge might expedite her own orgasm that seemed just as imminent as mine. We were naked. Dripping with the passionate perspiration we had squeezed from each other's tightly intertwined straining bodies. We were wrestling. Not just to pin each other on both shoulders, but to do so AND overcome her last ultimate defence and have her shuddering in ecstatic erotic submission.

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The alarm was going off again, and after hitting the snooze for the third time, I was finally starting to wake up. I was fading in and out of the dream state I was in, and was feeling incredibly horny. I couldn’t dent the wetness between my legs, so I reached down and slid a finger up and down my slit. I continued thinking of the dream I had been having where I had been making love to a younger girl.

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I lay on my side, on my expensive 600 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets. At that moment I felt childish for crying like a baby. People died all the time and no one knew that better than me. As a heart surgeon it was my job to repair the otherwise irreparable and I was good at my job. Years of careful planning and dedication had gotten me that.

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I've spent every Friday and Saturday evening over the last three months sitting at a small table near the corner of the stage at the Magic Dancer Club. I have a few drinks and enjoy the show as the various ladies strut their stuff on the big stage. It's a very nice club if you happen to be into exotic dancing. It's an upscale club with an affluent white-collar clientele. The floor is covered with expensive deep-pile carpeting, except in the lobby, which has fancy marble flooring.

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The rest of the event passed in something of a glorious haze. We sat around the stage that had been transformed into an elegant table, quickly set with linen, fine china, crystal, and silver. The two yummy women who had served the hors d'oeuvres (one of whom had served me so much more!) efficiently and expertly brought a wonderful meal to the women who were Linda's friends, as well as to Linda and to me--I'd been asked to join them at the table.

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After having to wear a shell in public, then having an orgasm in the presence of my friends and watching my friends have an orgasm virtually naked, I didn’t think that any of the challenges could get any worse. I was wrong. A few weeks later, I was talking to my friend on the Internet and I was telling him about how my friends Terra, Cindy and I had been talking in bed one night and we were discussing our fantasies. I mentioned that Terra’s fantasy was to sleep with another woman to see what it was like.

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My husband once worked for a major international tractor company, most people would have heard the name, but I won't mention it here. He was a highly qualified mechanic and one of the head supervisors. One night just a few years ago, he and I got into a discussion about him going out on his own to start a business.

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