Your erotic stories

"Come on Jazz, I'm serious." "Get out," the short black woman said, throwing her hands up. "Why not?" Regina whined. "You're serious." Jasmine said incredulously. "Yes, I'm serious," the tall blonde earnestly replied. 'Dr. Ethridge to the ballistics lab, please' the PA announced, interrupting them.

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It had been a long day and I was very, very tired. As soon as I got back to my room I flopped down backwards on the bed and closed my eyes and just lay there. My feet were aching, my back was aching and I had the beginning of a headache. I felt hot and dirty and my whole body was uncomfortable, as if it had been squeezed inside my dress all day.

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Sitting in that damp sand between the water and the dry sand, my legs spread wide so that the waves could lap at my crotch, I thought about Brenda. I thought about how she liked doing that to me. I looked around and I was alone. I felt alone. Deep down, I was alone. I lifted my bottom and slipped the bottoms of the suit past my ass and over my feet.

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Josie Helling stood on the sidewalk in the sweltering heat of an extreme Manila summer. She waited patiently for the car to arrive, deciding against ducking back into the building where it was definitely cooler. The text message positively said 2:30, it was now 10 minutes before 3pm, and the car was still nowhere to be seen. She was going to be late for yet another meeting. This didn't surprise her anymore, being all too familiar with the horrible city traffic.

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At 30, the peak of my female hormones screaming at me to do something with them other than finger my softest parts, I found myself still alone. I was afraid I wasn't beautiful enough, yet every time I looked in the mirror (other than on fat days) I thought I looked pretty good. Sexy, even. Long dark hair, pretty eyes, and a nice (though not perfect) line of curves that complimented the mild tan of my skin.

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The phone rang and I picked it up, not really caring who it was. I was in that kind of a mood. I had a restless feeling inside me, one of those not really knowing what was wrong, but the world sure as Hell didn't seem cheery and bright to me. Know what I mean? A shitty disposition! Yeah, that pretty well described it. My parents knew that disposition maybe too well, and got on my case about it. Maybe I deserved it, I didn't know.

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Hello readers; my name is Emily, and I want to tell you my story, about how I reached this point in my life. Some of you will say I am weird, some will even say kinky or depraved; but you can think what you like, and I will just tell my story. I am not trying to say all the rest of you are wrong and I am right; it is just right for me, the way I live my life. I hope you enjoy my story.

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I fell in love watching you shower, you know. I've done it so often I know your routine off by heart. I know how shy you are and how you shriek when you catch me watching. I always hated the see-through shower doors until the first time I saw you through them, now I wouldn't trade them for anything.

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All I could see were mirrors, yet the voice resounded in the room. I could hear a woman speaking to me. She'd tell me to walk in one direction, yet I wouldn't be able to get past myself, my own image. Offering words of encouragement, she tolerated my inability to overcome my own obstacles.

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Out of all the social functions I attended each year my favorite by far was Caroline Carson's annual summer kickoff party, held every June at her twelve room plantation home on the river. Caroline's parties were legendary in savannah's social circles; she picked the guests personally for each party.

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