Your erotic stories

We were separated in our relationship by a long distance but kept a hot romance going through our regular correspondence on the Internet. This not only made the time apart a little more bearable, but it certainly led to spicy meetings when we did have the chance to get together. Jane was a very loyal correspondent and hardly a day went by when she didn't write. Sometimes we would just write about work, our daily lives, kids, etc., but often times Jane would stimulate things by writing a hot steamy story about the two of us together.

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Mary sat looking into the large mirror that rose above the antique dressing table and smiled at her image in the glass. She looked stunning with her golden blonde hair flowing down out of the wispy wedding veil, framing her creamy white cheeks in an almost angelic halo. Her silky white wedding dress dipped down in the front revealing her milky cleavage and she felt her breasts rising as her breathing grew short.

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I parked my car in the driveway, a big smile on my face. I took a moment to collect my things, making sure my present for her was perfect. It was simply wrapped, just some red wrapping paper around a little box, tied with a big red bow, but I knew she would like it; she always enjoyed my gifts.

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A few months ago I met a guy called Edward and it turned out that, among his varied and chequered past, he'd been divorced and has a son in his late teens, just like me. His lad is called Ashley; he's eighteen and at university in Sheffield. My son is Jake who's nineteen and at Leeds. Edward is physically much larger and stronger than me; something I always enjoy in a man when we get to the bedroom.

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Jane's annual trip visiting US clients was nearing its end and the novelty of travel was wearing off. She was alone on the trip, it had been successful and she had made some new sales and visited some of her existing customers but she tired easily of the nights alone in hotels. Room service or restaurant? Watch TV or read her book? Usually one hotel was much the same as another and mostly they weren't too comfortable for a lone female traveller.

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About a month ago I had become frustrated by the lack of money for even the simplest promotions at the radio station I work for. At first I thought it was simply a matter of the station owner being a cheap bastard, but after a little digging around I learned otherwise. I discovered that the lack of money was real, not just an excuse from a penny-pinching owner. But when I learned the cause of our money problems I didn’t get angry, I got excited.

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The café was warm, filled with low chatter and the pungent scent of roasting coffee. A jazz band sent its smooth sound over the vast expanse of crowded tables. Seated by the window, Hyuga bent his head over his sketch book, silently absorbed in the task of laying out the scene around him. His pencil glided across the page; he glanced around frequently to take in the exact detail of a certain mug or a woman's blouse. Incessantly, he flipped the dark bangs out of his eyes.

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I had resigned myself to another frustrating night alone without relief. It had been two weeks since I had last been allowed an orgasm, and the need was deep in my groin. This was not the first time that a significant period of time had passed without contact from my master, but this was the longest he had gone without coming to me, and he had been very specific that I could not masturbate and cum until he told me I could.

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She awoke, right hand between her legs, middle finger buried deep in her pussy. The wetness coupled with the sensitivity and a kind of empty feeling in her chest told her that she had orgasmed in her sleep again. A tear trickled down her cheek to join the wide stain that already lay on the bed sheets. Brenda divorced her philandering husband three years ago. She had married him in her early thirties, but after ten years, his constant string of affairs had become too much to bear.

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A shapely chestnut-haired girl frolicked through a meadow with careless ease, her long red hood trailing behind her as she carried a basket full of pastries on her way to her isolated grandmother's house. Unbeknownst to her, exploring the deepest, most wooded areas of the forest, there was also a young man. A young man who suddenly came upon a path, which he followed to the very same meadow filled with tiny purple flowers.

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