Your erotic stories

I knocked on the door with my wife, Linda, by my side. The door opened but was held tight by a chain as light peeked out from inside. "Chocolate banana," I said. The door closed and was soon re-opened without the lock. We entered hand in hand. The door was shut behind us and quickly locked. A short man stood there looking us over. "Welcome," he said in a low voice. "The club is meeting downstairs. Please leave your clothes in the living room before proceeding down," he said, handing us a plastic container.

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An icy wind stung Amy's cheeks as she ran down a tree lined avenue under an overcast November sky. Her breath puffed rhythmically in front of her as her feet pounded the pavement. Only another three miles to go, she thought, rather morosely, to herself. Today was one of those days she just wanted to sit on the couch, snuggled in a blanket with a cup of hot chocolate, not freezing her ass off training for a half marathon.

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Hannah Allbright rode Lancaster, her husband’s favorite mount, down the charred and blackened streets of Pleasant Harbor Township, the stink of smoke and soot still lingered thick in the muggy summer air. Though it was her third visit into town since the burning she still wept at the site of her beloved village smoldering in ruin as she made her way to the mercantile, the lone building left standing after the Redcoats' unprovoked attack.

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While driving to Jonni's place, Ross reflected back to the days when he first met her. It was a time when parties were happening with great regularity and every party brought new faces. But Jonni, like Ross, had been two of the regulars at those parties.

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Raymond Fields lay on his hotel bed bored and lonely. He hated these extended business trips. Thirty days on the road always led to boredom. This trip seemed worse then most. The assignment he was on did not require any overtime, which left him with way too much free time to fill. In the ten days he had been in Memphis, Ray had already seen every pay-per-view, porn and regular, on the hotel system.

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On the morning of my 30th birthday, I ran through the hospital doors to the desk, found out Dad's room number, and rushed to him. He was sitting up in the bed, not looking too much the worse for wear, actually. I peppered him with worried questions, but he tut-tutted the whole thing. "Just bad stomach. Something I ate."

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Just another day really, nothing special to begin with. We had been in through the morrning, and we'd been out in the afternoon. We'd done some shopping for the flat, had a few giggles, a little bit off teasing and some playful jokes but now we were back. I had made a cup of tea for myself, a coffee for him, with a biscuit on the side. Every inch the happy domestic scene, but isn't it always the case that you only hear the 'something's going to happen' music in bad movies?

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I got home from playing basketball, and my mom and her friends were in the middle of ladies bridge night. Two tables with four women each all looked over at me when I came through the door, and I turned a little red. I must have been a picture of loveliness, my sweat stained t-shirt clinging to my chest and back, my damp hair hanging in my face, basketball in the crook of my arm. I waved to my mom and headed upstairs. "Charlie!" she called after me.

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"Ah, the workmen are through for the day," Paige thought as she watched the men loading their pickups and preparing to leave. They were working to create a studio and large bedroom with attached bath out of what had been three small bedrooms upstairs in the big barn of a house she bought for a song because it was so far from town. They had been working for over a week, tearing down walls and running new wires and plumbing for the project.

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Jackie arrived at her house and retired to her bedroom. She threw her keys on the night stand before taking a few deep breaths. She wondered how she should spend the rest of her evening and night. She knew her husband was already asleep in his bedroom, passed out drunk. She was so bored with her marriage of six years that there was nothing left but empty feelings for her husband. She wished he would just leave and divorce her. All he cared about was getting drunk, day after day. It seemed as if he had alcohol for blood.

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