Your erotic stories

Jessi loved her apartment. She had been living there since she was in college, and she had made good friends with some of her neighbors. She lived in a finished apartment under a house owned by a nice older couple. Next door was a single father, Tom, with his 18 year old daughter, Beth. Beth's mom and brother had been killed by a drunk driver shortly after Jessi moved in, and Jessi had spent a lot of time with Beth then, consoling her and just talking.

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It's Friday morning - "Casual Friday" at the office. I'm walking along with a friend when I see her coming toward me in the hall. As usual, I'm curious to see how she will react to me, and as we approach one another, I can tell this will include the usual awkwardness. I'm slightly behind Gina, my friend, who speaks first, a pleasant, "Hi, Deborah!" that draws a smile and a "Hi" in return. But then she notices me, and the reaction is clear.

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Andrew had recently got a new job. We were driving to spend Saturday with his new boss, John, and his wife. I had not met either of them and I knew I wanted to make sure that they liked me. Their house was about 45 minutes away from ours and on the drive I found myself daydreaming about the past. About my adolescence.

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I had been here a lot since moving back to New Zealand about six months ago. I had been living in Greece, on a sort of working sabbatical from the local university. Since I lived two blocks from here it was the first place I went for a drink after I moved in. Once I walked in I had kept coming back. It was... different I guess.

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I've never been the type of girl to have a crush. Back in high school, when all of my friends were talking about the various boys of the week, I was talking about my favorite books or newest sci-fi. Sure, my friends shared some of my interests, but we never connected on that level.

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I love how today's older people complain that today's generation are all sluts. I mean, we are, but so were our parents and presumably our grandparents (although I'm not a big fan of thinking of grandma being a slut back in the day). The point is, although I wasn't a slut who fucked just anybody, I was very cock hungry when I was eighteen as was my best friend Kelly...although she was more of a fuck em' and leave them sort of gal.

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It was at the village fete that I saw her. I had just emerged from the main tent, after judging the sponge cake competition -- a solemn duty for the parish vicar's wife -- and there she was, 20 yards away from me, paying for a go at the coconut shie. She looked even slimmer than I remembered her as a teenager. I thought at first that her short, spiky hair had turned prematurely grey;

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Rachel Salvatora took a sip of her Chardonnay trying to ignore the turbulence that was wreaking havoc on both the flight and her stomach. She had been in her seat for an hour and was growing uncomfortable. Lynn had fallen asleep on her shoulder and she didn't want to wake up the young blonde woman. Rachel's sky blue skirt was running up her leg slowly but surely as Lynn moved her leg while she slept. Rachel wondered if the movement was intentional.

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My daughter gave me a special birthday present last year. I guess I'd been complaining to her a lot about how stressed out I'd been with my job, so she gave me a gift certificate for a massage. When I opened the card and saw what it was, I gave Erin a big hug and thanked her.

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Professor Angela O'Neil removed her glasses to rub tiredly at her eyes. Continuing a ritual she had already completed many times this afternoon, she turned her head to glance out the tiny window. It was fully dark now, the only light coming from the campus lights reflecting off the thick blanket of snow. Dark and dreary when she arrived in the morning, dark and dreary when she finally left for the day. Much as she hated to admit it, Winter was beginning to wear on her.

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