Your erotic stories

I have a pantyhose fetish. There, I've said it. I've never flat out told this to anyone before. You mention any type, color, or style of pantyhose, and I've got it. And more than one pair of them too. I've loved pantyhose as long as I can remember. I like how sexy they are on me. I like how they feel against my skin.

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It was a week before I saw Carly again. Unfortunately, it was me who called her. I didn’t want to and tried not to – but we girls know how it can be sometimes. I needed to be fucked and I couldn’t resist her. Come round to mine on Thursday at 8, she’d said. I’ll be alone then.

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Leanne sat in the old transport café at the edge of the park waiting for her boyfriend, Ricky. Yet again he was late for a date and Leanne was beginning to get just a little fed up with it all. Either he wanted to be with her or he didn't. If he did, then surely he should have the courtesy to be on time at least once in a while, and if he didn't, then why the hell didn't he just say so?

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I first saw Rosie in the Red Lion lounge while I was out with my girlfriends on Friday night, on a girl’s night out. I was with Marie and Susie, and we were having a good time, but Marie had a migraine. The girl at the table next to us was about our age, in our thirties, and cute enough to not be alone on a Friday night, but then, so were we.

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This story is not exact to any actual characters or place in any time in history nor is it based on any persons living or dead. It is modeled after ancient Japan. "What do you think you are doing you impudent whore? How dare you talk back to me, Yuriko! I ought to kill you now and send you to the depths of hell!" He smacked her again, drawing a line of blood from her lip to match her bloodied nose and bruised cheeks and eyes, which were downcast and deeply afraid.

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Helen went out to feed the animals, as much to get out of the stifling cottage that backed up into the hillside as to perform any chore. The ground around was mostly bare dirt, and there was the smell of livestock and staleness. She reached out to pet a goat that had come up to her. They had those strange eyes that unnerved her, but still, she hungered for some kind of contact with a warm living thing that would not rebuke her.

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Miranda walked from the restroom hallway back into the noisy, smoke filled dance club. As she turned the corner she glanced to her left and came to a sudden stop, eyes wide. The table in the corner, where all the rich girls from the college had been sitting was now nearly empty.

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1955 "Well Mrs. Davidson you husband has left you a sizable amount. However out of his millions, twenty-five has been left to his daughter. There is also a clause that is binding that may cause you some grief." Mr. Goldblum looked over at the young lady across the table. This had all the makings of a bad detective movie he thought.

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Sheila and I have become somewhat of a matched set; we really enjoy each other's company and well as each other's body. We spend a lot of quality time together doing all sorts of things, from shopping to exploring parks to sometimes even going out with no destination in mind, just to be together. For example, last week we hopped in the car with no place to go in mind. It was a warm day in May and we took our dogs with us.

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This story is partly fictional, although the woman by the name of Lynne is real but I have not used her real name and she does indeed run a matchmaking service for lonely, horny lesbians. Although she calls it matchmaking, it is actually prostitution.

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