Your erotic stories

I was expecting a normal shift when I arrived at the police station. I'd just changed into my uniform, checked my make-up and was on my way to report to the desk sergeant, when Dougie Wilson, one of my colleagues and a complete arsehole, intercepted me with a grin. "Hey, Fraser, Chief Inspector McFarlane wants you to report to his office as soon as you get in. Been a bad girl have you?" Pausing only long enough to tell him to piss off, I made my way along to 'Super Mac's' office.

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I'm a modern dance instructor, and a few weeks ago a couple showed up at my modern dance class. They were the absolute picture of ski slopes fitness, the sorts who set the pace at resorts such as Aspen and Vail. I soon learned that they were both in fact competitive skiers and were taking my advanced dance class as part of their regimen to get in shape for the rigors of the upcoming winter ski season.

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I was desperate for the money that was my only excuse for answering the ad in the newspaper. I felt like a fool approaching the seedy looking hotel, where the recording of the movie would be taking place. This was a stupid idea; I berated myself, even as I knocked hesitantly at the door of the room, as directed by the production office when I called. I had to fax them my headshots and clinical records, proving that I was descent looking and healthy.

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A few months ago, I got an email from the little sister of a girl I know. Her name is April. She got a computer for her birthday. She went online found my email address. I went to grade school with her older sister. April remembered me. She searched me out and surprised me with a letter.

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Late, late, late -- I am going to be late. I muttered this mantra to myself as I ran to my car. It was 7:32 and I was supposed to check in by 8:15 at the seminar. I was headed to a teacher's seminar at a hotel about forty-five minutes from my house. The day was already hot and humid. I needed to pick up a few extra classes so I would have a better chance at getting a substitute teaching job at one of the schools close by.

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My name is Jessica and I am twenty four years of age. I grew up in a small suburb in Arkansas, minutes away from Little Rock. I had always thought of myself as an average girl with an average life with very few surprises. I certainly never thought that I would be with another woman.

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I suppose trouble follows me because I look for it, but sometimes (more often than not) I find myself in the wrong place at the wrong time (or as I would say, the right place at the right time). Such was the case on New Year's Eve.

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I'm sitting here with my head spinning, completely confused. I need to talk this thing through with someone... I just don't understand my own feelings on this one. I've honestly never felt like this before. It all started last night. Christmas party season -- the joys! I've not been in my new job very long, working in the sales floor of a national magazine (I'm not allowed to say which, but you've probably read it in the hairdressers.')

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My first truly erotic encounter set a high standard for all that followed. I was eighteen years old, fresh-faced and pretty, if a little naive. I was ready to experience new things and break out of high school awkwardness. This was partly the reason why I quickly made my peace with having to share a bedroom with a stranger assigned by the college.

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Nicole rang Fiona's doorbell with genuine trepidation. Her heart was pounding because she was there to have a long time fantasy made real at last. She had always, for as many of her twenty-four years as she could remember, harboured a vague bi-curiosity and a carefully hidden urge to be submissive. Her submissive tendencies were real enough, she secretly longed to be disciplined and to be made to do things against her will, but she wasn't so sure about her hankering to go to bed with a woman.

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