Your erotic stories

Before Penny married Mark she had been married before when she was a young, innocent twenty-year old beauty to a wealthy man twenty years her senior who loved and spoiled her with everything she ever wanted or needed both physically and sexually. They had two daughters, Penelope and Pamela, in the first three years of their marriage who were growing up into beautiful, young girls.

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Working in a very hectic office, it is nice to just get away and relax. I found a place to do just that on the Oregon coast. It's nothing special, just a little house but it sets on a hill and has a fantastic view of the ocean. There are only two houses on the road and the one I have sets higher than to one next to me.

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Music pounded around her. The club was an exclusive one, and had only the best DJ's turning on any given night. The floor literally vibrated under her feet. She looked at the bouncer that let her in without issue, then at the writhing mass of bodies visible beyond the door. Swathed in light that shifted like water, the strobes gave an interesting effect to the already interesting décor of the club.

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Ironically, it was my husband who noticed you first. As you climbed out of the pool in one of those frighteningly brief bikinis that the young of today wear and which put the fear of Christ up older women like me, he said. "God I thought that was Emma," referring to our niece. I looked up and saw this lithe, beautiful, impossibly slim, but femininely rounded young woman walking alongside the pool.

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The store wasn't opened yet as I walked through my department, women's clothes, to put my purse away in the back. Mary hollered out "Hey Jenny! How's it hanging?" When I said 'hollered', I was being literal. There was nothing subtle about her. Mary is one of those chubby, and I'm trying to be kind, women who can no longer see between their legs because their gut hangs over everything down there. Never have been to her house, or double wide trailer, whatever it is, but I envision it is full of stray cats and dogs, and surely no man or husband or partner of any kind to be found or even a trace of a past one.

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I stood at the altar of Holy Cross Cathedral, slowly suffocating. The church was filled with candles and despite the snow falling outside, I felt as if I were melting. I wore my mother's wedding dress and while photographs proved it to be was beautiful and elegant on her, I was crushed beneath its weight.

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It was 3 AM and my bed sheets were a messy lump under my back. I was tired. It had been a tiring day -- get up early in the morning, make breakfast, work eight hours, go to movies with boyfriend, have a screaming fight with boyfriend outside of movie theatre, throw drink at boyfriend, cry after being dumped, rip up photos of us as a couple... all very tiring work.

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My name is Gabriela. No, it's not, but I'm not telling you my real name. I'm 29 years old. I was 29 last year too. I'm a professional girlfriend. My boyfriends' wives would call me a whore. My boyfriends buy me jewelry, clothing, pay my rent, my credit card bills, sometimes even give me shares in their companies or illegal stock tips.

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"You need something, Maryann?" "Could I have something for pain?" Her voice was small and hesitant. "I'll check. If you can, I'll bring it and then let it take effect and then," Sharon Caswell, R.N., paused with a whimsical smile of her face, "we'll do your bath." Maryann Hollander sort of laughed and then groaned, "Sharon don't make me laugh, it hurts."

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It was Danielle's 18th birthday. Her parents were going away for the weekend, but gave her permission to have some friends over for a birthday party, with one rule: No boys allowed. After some thinking, she decided on who she wanted to have over: Becky, Sarah, Amber, Candace, and Holly. She called each one in turn, and got them all to agree. All Danielle had to do now was wait.

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