Your erotic stories

I don't know how it happened. Nothing seemed out of place. The last thing I remember is getting out of the shower and drying my hair. That's when I saw him in my vanity mirror. A figure, clothed in black with a mask over his face, wrapping him arms around my shoulders and face. Then everything went black. I know I should call the police but...I don't know if I want to.

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Beth was awakened from her orgasm-induced nap by the ringing of the doorbell. She sat up on the bed and tried to gain her senses. Her cat Sammy was still sleeping on the pillow next to hers. The doorbell rang again as she sprang from the bed. She headed to her dresser, removing her robe as she went. Hanging it over the back of the dressing table chair, she reached into the drawer and quickly grabbed a t-shirt and a pair of shorts, dressed and rushed to the door as the doorbell rang yet again.

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It started out in the usual way, with Leslie going downstairs to the corporate gym to exercise, just like she did nearly every day. For 30 minutes the petite blonde climbed up the stair climber. At 29, she was still proud of her body and she took care of it so that she would remain so. She stood around 5' 5" and weighed in around 101 pounds.

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Just like always I can hear the nearest neighbour pour water into something before he shuts the water off. The soft padding of feet floating above my head. I follow the footsteps, wandering beneath him. It's fascinating, how I can hear every move he makes. I know when he goes to work, when he comes home, when he sleeps and when he wakes.

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It was the alcohol that made the difference. Not that Steph really needed an excuse. The way she danced with carefree abandon held her male audience spellbound. Her best friend, Mel, danced with her. Both girls were fully aware of the effect their routine was having on the five men that watching them with hungry intensity.

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When I woke up it was dark outside and the lamps inside Frank and Anna’s living room were turned on. I lay on the floor naked and alone. Yawning, I sat up. The house was quiet. I stood and searched for the bathroom. I found it and, as I flushed the toilet, I heard laughter from the kitchen. I wandered into the room. Anna was sitting at the kitchen table in a gauzy bathrobe talking into the phone. She smiled and motioned me over. When I approached, she reached up and pulled me down for a quick kiss.

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I am constantly traveling. The work I do keeps me on the road all the time. Here I was in San Antonio. I was staying at the Omni Hotel, sitting on the corner stool at the lobby bar, having a beer and watching the basketball game. It was a quiet weeknight and there were maybe 15 people in small groups around the bar or scattered amongst the little bar tables.

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The gathering at Alan's was supposed to be a pool party, but the clouds had been threatening all through the sultry August afternoon and few had taken a swim. By the time the barbecue was ready, it looked like it really would rain at any moment, so everyone crowded inside with their food. By the time I got mine there was hardly any place to sit, and I was grateful when Anne, who had already finished eating, waved me over to take her place on a low ottoman that had been pushed aside so it was near the end of the couch.

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Simon's hands automatically went to my waist, slipping low to cup my ass in his palms. I'd already pushed him past the point of no return, but he was still trying to reclaim control of the situation, feebly asserting his authority. "Amy—we can't," he said. "We said we wouldn't." Even if there had been conviction in his voice, the presence of his hands on my ass and the way his mouth opened against mine, his hot breath filling my mouth, made his true feelings clear. I felt a little guilty for pushing him, but not enough to stop.

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My life was a wreck. My marriage had failed and six months later my wounds were far from healed. It was early evening when I heard a dull wrap at the thick green door to my small tenement block apartment. I peered through the small spy hole at the slender and petite shape of Natalie, my wife's best friend, standing nervously at the other side.

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