Your erotic stories

It was a full week before Bethany heard again from Mrs Boxwell. All during the week at school she had felt anxiety, almost heartsickness, at what she had done last Saturday night. A million questions went through her mind. Mainly, it was: What's wrong with me? But then as she thought about her cute friend Lissy on her knees doing what she was doing, how shocking it was, she could not help but get excited. Late in her bed at night she masturbated. Oh, it was wrong, but she couldn't stop herself.

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Aaron was late. The guys at the office had decided to go to a club to unwind but no one had bothered to give him the name of the place. It was all that asshole's fault. What was his name? Michael? He'd been getting lavished with all of the attention the past couple of months rising through the ranks with godlike precision.

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He watched her walk up the path to her door. He checked his watch. She always got home at 6:30, no matter what. He liked that she had a routine; order in her schedule...the rest of her life was messy. She was behind on her rent. She had a decent job, preschool teacher, but that didn't pay much. But damn if she didn't do it for him. He first noticed her while he was golfing.

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Chapter ONE Jordin Tyler knew the streets of Capitol City pretty well, but the Lower East Side was something else. The old "Bohemian" section of town had a lot of winding little cobblestone lanes and odd-shaped buildings. In the daytime it was quaint and picturesque, but on a dark, cloudy night with fog drifting in, it was easy to get lost there.

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A flashy sports convertible pulled into a driveway next to a much more subtle, unmarked black van. A predictably middled aged man, climbed out and waved at the occupant of the standard suburban home, who was sprawled comfortably on the steps leading up to the front porch, a beer nestled in one hand. "Scotty…" said the other man from his perch.

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Encounter on a train brings two strangers closer together. “I wanna go home now Mum!” a small child screeched making Sophie’s skin crawl. “OK Max. We’re nearly home now,” the woman holding his hand soothed far too politely for Sophie’s liking. All he needed was a good slap. That would shut him up.

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1 Maynor Smith powered up the small handheld video camera, rested it on the edge of his desk, and then pointed it at the girl on the couch. His chest felt hollow, his heartbeats reverberating inside him like an old bass drum. It always felt this way at the start, especially with a new girl. He ignored it, knowing it would soon pass. It always did. He framed her smiling face, her delicious body. He loved the prim way she held her knees together.

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When you open the door, the whole apartment is dark. You call out a name, knowing that your lover should be here... maybe he's asleep. You hit the light switch on the wall, but nothing happens. You flick it again. You can see the VCR blinking from the other side of the living room, so you know there's power. Well, maybe the bulb just burnt out.

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Daylight began to creep across the room. Reluctantly I woke up from my restless slumber. Memories of what had transpired last night came rushing back to me. Unbidden, tears started to flow, and I lay curled up in my bed, trembling with shame and pain. My battered body is a testament of how Papa had brutally raped me. I had lost count of the times he had taken me yesterday night.

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My name is Kavita and I am a 30 year old married professional woman living in Delhi, India. I work in an MNC and Raj, my husband, is a fairly successful businessman. We have been married for 3 years and you can say we are as happy as an average married couple. We have our ups and downs, good days and bad days, so to the words I am a typical Indian woman taking take of her husband and household. However, the truth is far from that.

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