Your erotic stories

Elijah I'd been going to hardcore punk shows since I started university three years ago. There were two totally different hardcore scenes in my city -- the river divided the bright shopping centres from the seedy industrial complexes and there was a distinct culture for each side of the bridge.

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Every time the door opened, I sat straight up and looked in anticipation of you. Finally just before closing time, you came in. You look at me expressionlessly and push the lock on the door closed before making your way to me. I fumble on my desk for the book I was so anxious to show you. I stand up as you get closer and start to remove my glasses. "Leave them on!" you bark out as you grab my arm tightly.

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Brandi arrived at the New Orleans International Airport a nervous feeling settling in the pit of her stomach. She parked then headed into the massive building. She'd checked and rechecked Ally's flight schedule more times than she could count but found herself unable to relax and stop. She had an irrational amount of panic and she almost turned around. Tsking at herself she continued on to the Southwest terminal.

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Marty and Julie had been married for 5 years, and Marty was struggling to come up with a great gift for his wife. He had looked at jewelry, sexy lingerie, and dozens of other ideas. Nothing seemed to be exactly what he was looking for, until one day the perfect suggestion crossed his path. "You think she'll like that?" asked Marty.

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Guy was a twenty-five year old washing machine service engineer who was mentally and physically marred by the scarring of adolescent acne. He was also thin, shy, and sexually frustrated, and was altogether the exact opposite of all that service engineers are supposed to be. His was not the life of continual housewife conquests and extended house calls no matter how much he wanted it to be, and on the only two occasions that he had made half-hearted advances to the ladies he had called on he had been rebuffed instantly, and threatened with being reported to head office.

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I called Jennifer back a couple of days after our last tryst and she practically squealed at the sound of my voice. "I'm so glad you called," she said. Grinning, I replied, "me too. How are you doing?" "Great, now. How about you?" "Great too. Hey, can I come by and see you tomorrow afternoon?"

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Donna Smithers stood in her largest client's office, her stomach queasy at the thought of losing the two million dollar contract. She knew that the client had been shopping around for a better deal. She knew that without it her business might very well go under. She also didn't trust the client very much at all. She was willing to drop the cost to the client by two hundred thousand dollars which would just barely cover her costs with a bare minimum of profit. She knew that she might not have a choice in the matter and that made her sick to her stomach.

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Eric sipped his drink, watching her. Amber smiled coyly at him over the rim of her glass, laughing at something one of them had said. He had been enjoying their conversation, but his thoughts kept straying to how much she'd had to drink. Eric watched with interest as she dipped her fingers into the glass of her third cocktail, trapping a cube of ice against the edge of the glass. She wasn't necessarily the most beautiful woman in the world - but there was a light in her eyes that it was impossible to ignore.

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Tina arrived home to a quiet house. She knew her girlfriend Shay was home not only because her car was in the driveway, but Shay had called her at work and told her to hurry home for a surprise.

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"Would you help me over in Reference, please?" Richard looked up from his filing. He swiveled his head, looking for the source of the clear, but tiny voice. "I'm rearranging and I need someone to help move the shelves and lift the boxes of books." He spied Sylvia, standing a little to the side and behind him. Richard nodded "ok" and filed the last two cards. He closed the card file drawer and followed her to the reference room, for which she had already started.

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