Your erotic stories

When I turned on my computer this morning, I had an e-mail from a woman with whom I went to college. The message included an invitation to come and spend a weekend in Atlanta. Fortunately, my husband would be in Europe the weekend she suggested. This would be perfect. New Orleans is only about a ten hour drive from Atlanta. And it had been a while since I'd seen the scenery along the way. A late spring drive would be just lovely. I e-mailed my travel plans and counted away two weeks.

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"Let's see what you got..." Rachel said from behind the camera. Laurie was nervous. She was now a month behind on the rent and she knew that Rachel had become an expert in evictions. She stood for no nonsense at all; Laurie had seen tenants tossed from their homes after barely moving into the beaten-down apartment house she lived in. After the last falling out with her mother she knew she could not go back there; it would literally be living in the car.

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NOTE: Different perspectives (Third Person, and switching off of characters). This is my first time posting my work on an erotic space, please be kind. Enjoy! *Third Person* It was a breezy spring day and the family was planning to go for a little road trip. To visit some family. Lacey and Ryan were sitting at the back of the car, windows all the way down, both lost in their own worlds. Driving was Lacey's stepfather and beside him, Lacey's mother.

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Date?! I stared at Kenji, mouth open. "Are you serious?" "Well, why not?" he asked, sitting down again. "Your ghost isn't going anywhere, so rather than sitting around twiddling our thumbs, waiting for Pinky, let's go out and do something." I looked at him in silence.

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Sure, it all sounds great. I'm 29, I have my own business. A great house with way more bedrooms and bathrooms than I'll ever need. Plus, my work brings me to Hawaii every 6 months. You see I own a surf gear company. We make wet suits and boards, tees and shorts with our logo on them. Every six months I go to Waikiki to our head plant. I check that everything is being made properly and legally.

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"I miss him so much," she said finally, after a long silence. She looked on the verge of tears, so I covered my best friend's hand with mine; it seemed the only thing I could do at that tender moment. She glanced down at our joined hands and continued, "I can't bring myself to clear out his closet. It smells too much of him. Everyone says I need closure, but I guess it's just too soon."

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I had just recently met Tiffany, who was a nineteen year old sophomore at the university I'm attending. I must say that Tiffany is absolutely gorgeous. She has long chestnut brown hair with striking dark-colored eyes. Tiffany is about five-five and weighs 115Ibs, and she has the most gorgeous set of legs I've ever seen on a woman (well, in my opinion).

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It all started one evening at our local bookstore. I was browsing through the racks, Rachel having wandered off to glance at the science fiction section. I noticed an autobiography by a well-known porn actress and picked it up. The cover featured the author looking very hot in a black corset and matching boots. Rachel returned while I was reading the blurbs on the back cover. She saw what I was looking at and chuckled.

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“Come closer.” She stood by the doorway, teetering slightly on the outsoles of her heels. Peering towards the corner, she made out the silhouette sitting casually in the leather sofa in the corner. Her eyes had not yet adjusted to the light, but the shaggy mane and the scent of clean musk were enough to tell her he had managed, yet again, to enter her home. She knew it was pointless to ask how. More important was why.

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I sat nervously in my hotel room, a large glass of single malt Scotch whisky in my hand. I stared at the selection of tights I had earlier laid out on the bed, wondering which Tom would prefer. Tom was 19 and lived locally to me but we had never met in person, we had begun chatting in an internet chat room and found similar interests in a fetish for tights.

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