Your erotic stories

I struggled not to run home from school. It would arrive and day now and just the thought caused my heartbeat to quicken. Typically I got the mail before my mother, so I was not too concerned that she might discover it. If she did, I had a good excuse prepared, a reaction which I had practiced many times, for why an 18-year old boy would receive such a thing.

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I'm Dr Paul Adams. I'm in my mid-twenties and quite fit. I'm a scientist, and good at my work. I have a gift of concentration and can focus on the thing I'm working on to the total exclusion of all else. If you want to talk to me while I'm at work, don't bother knocking on the door. I won't hear you. I'll also ignore little details like a voice speaking to me or a tap on the shoulder. If you really want my attention, your best bet is to move between me and whatever I'm currently studying.

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It started as she was showing him round the house, he the first visitor she'd had since she moved here, this person she had once known many years ago and whom she had run into in the street purely coincidently not five days earlier. They had gone to school together long ago, had socialised in the same group of friends there, but had lost contact in the years which had followed, so she had been excited to see him so accidentally and they had exchanged numbers.

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She had awakened way too horny to get back to sleep. Her thoughts were always random at such a dark hour, but they often strayed between her handful of lovers of the years and the ones she hadn't had, the ones whose cocks she only imagined while she masturbated in the lonely hours.

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The night was thick, hot, and humid, the air filled with the menace of an impending thunderstorm as Zanny walked hurriedly down the dark and empty street. She knew she must be crazy to be out in this neighborhood at this time of night, dressed as she was, and yet this was the third night in a row that she’d been compelled by some unknown need to dress in her best clothes, her sexiest underthings, sheer stockings, her black pumps, and take a cab down to the center of this forlorn industrial wasteland where she would walk alone through these dangerous and deserted streets, wandering slowly, the sharp rap of her heels loud in the darkness.

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Dressed in a white blouse and black skirt, I headed towards Tbonz. I got a few looks from some guys, but I blew past them, a woman on a mission. I was so glad my shift was over that I didn't care who was checking me out. I've been working the last couple weeks, ever since the semester ended, trying to scrape together money for Christmas presents.

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Jessica was nervous, driving to the meeting. Her boss, Susan, had asked to meet at a hotel room at one of the best, most expensive hotels in London. This was a very odd request, but Jessica looked at it as an adventure. She would get to see a great hotel and possibly have a nice lunch. But this was so out of character for her normally too-serious boss.

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Ever since congress passed the twenty-eighth amendment legalizing prostitution and other sexual services, there has been a rising and more predominant sub-culture of professional and recreational sexual slavery. Whether men and women would sign away their bodies for love or money, the contract was legally binding and would hold up in any court. A number of BDSM dens arose where like-minded people could gather;

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What the hell was it with girls? Linda had flirted with him shamelessly for a long time. She had invited him over while both of their respective significant others were out of town. They had hung out together in her parent's basement rec room. Her outfit had been very sexy and she had flashed her white cotton panties at him numerous times.

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On the bus ride home from college Amy was unconsciously teasing as usual. There weren't ever many people on the bus and since I was the only one she knew, we usually ended up sat together in deep discussion about life and experiences. She teased with stories of what her boyfriend Nick liked her to do and all the things that really turned her on, not to mention the fact that now it was summer I couldn't help peeking down the gap in her blouse at her pert breasts and the way her short summer skirt displayed almost all of her athletic thighs; thus leaving me to try and cover the tent being pitched in my trousers.

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