Your erotic stories

"Do all you can to instill discipline in the class, Mr. Gibson. I have to warn you, these girls can be very mischievous," Principal Blake warned me at our early morning meeting. I was assigned to be a substitute teacher in an all-girls high school and was told by the principal how the girls in senior high often misbehaved, especially with substitutes

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Sitting there at the computer Cassie waits. She knows her time alone is dwindling. Smiling to herself she types out her story. Letting the words take her over. Letting her mind drift off and meet her imagination. She laughs softly and shifts restlessly in her chair. Her fingers flying as the story pours out of her. Her body picks up the urgency of her fingers and words.

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Ian was on a roll. With the second draft of lyrics well under way and the melody writing itself, he knew he'd finally gotten it. He'd finally written a love song to rival all love songs. Honest, pure, impossible to ignore: exactly what he was going for. Becca had to listen to this. She'd have no choice but to love him and allow herself to be loved in return. He's just started mapping chord progressions when someone knocked on his door.

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I had been married for 10 years but was newly divorced and on the dating scene again. I was raring to get out there, flaunt my stuff and have fun for once in my adult life. Since I was a bit older than most of my competition at the bars and clubs I hung out at, I had to work a little harder than the 20-somethings to make myself look "hot." I worked out five times a week, watched what I ate and I didn't smoke or drink more than a few glasses of wine with dinner.

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The music in the club pounded in his ears. The lights were low, and the lasers lit up the fog atmosphere. Cage dancers gyrated in their steel boxes high above his head as he walked through the crowd. Even though this was typically his scene, Paul was anxious- he wasn’t accustomed to being alone in a group of people…waiting. This wasn’t his city, wasn’t his language.

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I still remember it like it was yesterday. The absolute best night of my life: Hi my name's Logan Jones and this is the story of an event that was so amazing I never forget it. It was a few years ago and I was just over 19 years old. It was my sister's 18th birthday and it was set to be a good one. She and around 15 of her close friends-she was popular at school-were going downtown for lunch at a fancy new restaurant before coming back to our place for a slumber party.

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David woke up suddenly. Not really sure what woke him up; he sat up and looked around. It was just 2:00 am. As he rolled over in bed he realized he had a hard-on in his underwear he wore to bed. A little surprised, he thought about maybe giving his hand another workout before rolling over and falling asleep.

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She was the reason he came in every morning.. He really didn't like coffee enough to pay $4.50 a cup but knew her schedule by heart. He knew from her nametag that she was Maria and had started greeting her by name as he ordered. She would smile and say good morning to him like she did to the other customers before him but it made his heart jump just the same. She was not the youngest worker in the shop but she was the only one who made his heart race. He would change lines when she wasn't looking to be sure it was her that waited on him.

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I see Sean four mornings a week at the gym. He runs the treadmill and I swim, but our schedules are close enough that we arrive at nearly the same time and finish our workouts a few minutes apart. I thought this a coincidence, at first. But I knew better when I got to know him, and learned to appreciate him in unimaginable ways.

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It was a non-descript ordinary beige trenchcoat with green plaid flannel lining. My father had left it behind when he moved out, and my mother had given it to me, thinking it might ease my pain to have something of his around. I always thought of it as an odd symbol of abandonment, of unfulfilled dreams of what a father should be in a daughter's eyes.

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