Your erotic stories

It was 1849 Martha Petersen was just turned 18. She was the only child of Swedish immigrants who were slain by Indians on the trek west. Martha had been raised by the Cooper family, a childless couple on the wagon train that Martha's family had joined for the journey to a new life. Martha was a beautiful natural blonde girl, with blue eyes and stood at 5ft 2in.

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The hum from the washing machines was a chorus of white noise drowning out the street sounds, the wail of sirens in the distance, the crazy-looking homeless man shouting profanities two doors up the sidewalk and the god-awful street rapper free-styling just outside the door of the 50 Cent Washeteria.

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I was lying on my bed staring at the ceiling and feeling sorry for myself for the third night in a row. The girl troubles of an eighteen year old guy still in highschool were not that critical in the grand scheme of things; I fully understood that yet somehow the thought did little to cheer me up. I rolled over onto my side and tried once again to think of something else, anything else, just to take my mind of her for a little while.

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We had seen each other many times, always going to and from work; but we had never spoken. Usually passing each other in the lobby, and sometimes riding in the same elevator to the top of the hi-rise; it's a huge building and with people stopping on every floor the rides take forever some days. I also knew that you had seen me watching you – admiring the way you walked, the outfits you wore, any glimpse I could get. From the smiles and looks you occasionally gave me, I even thought you enjoyed teasing me some.

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I lay on the bed, naked, spread, bound at three corners. Only my right arm is free, holding in a numb hand my vibrator, waiting. Finally you come to me, and sitting down, your weight dips the bed, creating a well of gravity that I can feel, pulling my helpless body towards you.

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For Amy Lynn Steele, it was hard not to reflect upon her current economic situation as she stood in the long line that filled every available representative of the Bureau of Unemployment Compensation. If she had not desperately needed the money, she would have vacated the building a long time ago, but the truth was, she needed the money, even if the weekly pay-out was far less than the amount she got as a Personal Assistant.

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Sophomore year was going to be great. The summer was fun, and while I missed being away from my college friends, I missed being in the city the most. Boston is a great place to go to college and it made suburban Ohio feel like a thousand miles away. I couldn't stay out late, or go to parties because I was still only 19.

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My twin sister Ryan is the crown jewel of the family. She is attractive, athletic, smart, and popular. I'm pretty much the exact opposite. We are both high school seniors. She is the star player on the volleyball team and I'm third string on the golf team. She is dating the stud quarterback and I spend my Friday nights with the chess club.

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Trying to keep the band together had been a right pain. With constant changes of personnel it was proving an impossible task. We'd just get the band fully rehearsed, when the singer would leave, or the drummer, or the keyboard player, and then we would have to start from scratch all over again. I was at the point of giving it all up when I was approached by Mark, who offered to manage and promote the band.

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One autumn night, after 35 years of considering sexual activities to be mediocre, Julia's sexual life changed forever. A friend invited her to a lingerie party, and Julia decided to go because she wanted to buy something comfortable to sleep in. As Julia turned onto the street where the party was supposed to be, she saw a line of cars in front of a large 3 story home, and noticed her friend, Amy, standing outside the front door waiting.

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