Your erotic stories

Alice van der Poole loved her boyfriend. Really, she did. Ben was perfectly handsome, perfectly sweet, perfectly... bland. Every kiss was preceded with a gentle, "May I kiss you?" and followed by a whispered, "You're so beautiful." At night, Ben would tell her how precious she was, how delicate and sweet and lovely. His fragile, perfect little rose. Alice wanted to scream.

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Mark's the sort of man you can't help but want to tie down and gag. He's clean shaven, nicely dressed and well mannered with slight build and quick eyes—ah, but that Mr. Brady routine is just a front. The man is actually a tightly wound ball of futile energy and repressed urges. I think he only shaves his head to keep from tearing his hair out in frustration. After a while, his manic approach to life in general makes you want to push him down, sit on his legs and scream, "BE STILL!"

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Louise had frequent contact with the hospitals and regular clinics in the area, and beyond. In fact most of her clients were referred by the medical staff at those places, by the more progressive minded staff, anyway. A copy of an old letter from a doctor at Westport General had fallen from a folder onto the corridor and hence and found its way by chance into the hands of one of the hospital's nurses, RN Suzanne (Sue) Meissner, just coming off her afternoon duty as a cardiac nurse. Sue was not connected with the Dr. Smith concerned or his patients, might have thrown the letter away had she seen a waste basket nearby.

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I spend most of the morning hours trying to decide what to wear on our date. I choose one outfit and then choose another. The excitement of what is to happen later has my mind in a jumble. I finally decide it is time to take a bath and relax in the bubbles for a while. I walk into the bathroom and stand in front of the mirror, turning from side to side.

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Mr. David was in his second year of teaching Band and things were not going well. The previous band teacher had been very old, and band in High School was never really the cool thing to do, so he was having a really hard time getting kids to be in his Marching Band. He had brought in outside help in the form of one of his friends from a marching band corps, but still things were not going well.

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I answered the door just like I did last week at this time, it was late and I had fallen asleep on the couch waiting for his call. Wrapped in a blanket, dreamily I opened the door so happy to see him standing there. My lover, who I met by chance on a snowy and frozen night playing around on the internet. It's been a few weeks since we met in person, and that first time we lasted only a few short minutes at my place before he wrapped his arms around me and I led him to my room.

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Determined sunbeams stretched across rumpled bed sheets, inching their way up the pillow in a desperate attempt to kiss the sleepy face resting there. Sheer, white curtains danced on a gentle morning breeze that carried with it the melodic sound of birds chirping in the distance.

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Raven walked up the front steps to the house. She looked at the piece of paper in her hand, confirming the address. It was a very ordinary house, on a very ordinary street. Only the fact that heavy drapes covered all the windows suggested that it was other than a typical suburban home.

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Sam was on his way home. He worked odd shifts, not the standard 9a-5pm bullshit most other people had to work. So he was leaving in the early afternoon. During his drive home, like most other days, he called his daughter to check in on her. Amanda was 20, and lived with him while she attended college. They always had a very close relationship. They talked about everything.

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He was there again. 

The man of my dreams. 

Or, to be totally accurate, the man in my dreams.

On an off for over 5 years I'd seen him. He was tall, around 6' 2" as far as I could tell, broad shouldered and muscular with a slim waist and strong legs. Lightly tanned skin and dark brown, shoulder length hair and bright, almost piercing blue eyes.

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