Your erotic stories

I wake up late and you have already left for the day. I knew you said you had to work but expected you to at least say good bye before you went. You had asked me months ago to reserve this specific weekend for you and to make sure that I had off Thursday thru Sunday off because you had plans for me.

read more

"Hi darling! This is Marisa...Marisa; this is my daughter, Zoey." "Hi Marisa. At last, I have the chance to finally meet you. I heard a lot about you!" Zoey cordially shook hand with her father's new girlfriend. Marisa Heart, 39, a doctor and a colleague of her father at St. Gabriel Hospital. They had been dating for the past 4 months. The woman facing her was pretty and petite, Zoey guessed she was about 5 feet 4 inches in height and she had the most appealing laughter. Her father incessantly made jokes at the table and she realized that he was happy to be with this woman.

read more

Have you ever found yourself in a situation, you knew many would consider wrong? No, I'm not talking murder wrong, so calm down, dear reader. I guess to tell this story right; I have to begin at the beginning of my story. A while back (no, I'm not telling you when, as for all I know, the wrong person or people are reading this) I was helping a friend move into her new place. Now, I know, helping a friend move isn't a bad thing, but it was what happened after that was, well, so to speak. My friend had a nice neighbor, a widowed father with three boys: Bobby -- 20, Dawson -- 18, and Elliot -- 12.

read more

Her name was Marilyn, she said, as we stood smoking a furtive cigarette outside our respective work-places. She was a large lady, probably 200 pounds and 6 feet tall in her high heels. And while I’m not usually attracted to big woman, there was something about Marilyn that drew me to her. She had a pretty face framed by long, black hair but it was her confident manner, her casual frankness and her easy, infectious laugh I remember most – and to which I responded as I got to know her better.

read more

The roses are blooming in the rather plain jar on my desk. It's a canning jar, it once held pickles I think, like the jars that used to line the shelves in your kitchen. The florist thinks I'm ridiculous for my regular purchase of three roses, one pale pink, two darker pink, but they remind me so much of you.

read more

The grill was hot and sending enticing aromas floating throughout the neighborhood. Everywhere there was laughter and conversation as the family caught up at the last blast of summer — the annual Labor Day cookout. Zach stole a glance at the cooler as his uncle fished out a beer. Daydreaming about how good an ice-cold beer would go down, he sighed.

read more

Rory sat on the edge of the bar, looking towards the entrance and repeatedly checking his cell phone. Every time he did so, his disappointed sighs grew more and more resigned. He had tried calling and sending text messages, without success. Where the hell was Jack? "What's the matter, gorgeous?"

read more

Halloween. October 31st and I didn't have any plans. I had a bit of a headache so I decided to take a little walk around the dorms. I had heard that there was a big costume party going on somewhere but I hate to dress up. The halls were pretty quiet for a friday night so I figured everyone must be out for the night. As I stepped out of the stairwell I heard a mix of voices coming from down the hall.

read more

I always play it to him as though I don't really like anal sex... that it's only something I do for him. It couldn't be further from the truth, even though I'm still a nice girl. We were going away for the weekend. Peter needed to represent a client at a conference in Chicago, and though he only had to attend daytime meetings on Saturday, we booked the overnight in order to get reasonable fares on flights. We were making a mini-holiday out of it.

read more

Every third Saturday Janet goes to pick up her friend Marla and they go garage sale shopping. This was one such Saturday, except Marla didn’t answer the door. Janet looked around and found all the cars present, yet no answer at the door. She walked around the house and decided to walk out to David’s workshop. Marla’s husband was a self-employed cabinet-maker and had a wonderful shop out behind their home on 3 acres.

read more