Your erotic stories

David was one of the regulars at my favorite bar. He was one of many people I saw there on a fairly regular basis; we'd occasionally chat about sports or movies or our favorite types of booze. He was a couple years older than me (I was 26 at the time) and, even though I'd never had any sort of sexual or romantic encounters with another guy before, I couldn't help but notice that he was attractive.

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I was driving back from the airport after seeing off my husband, who was off on tour for 10 days. As I drove through very light morning traffic, I was thinking of the unusual happenings of last few days. * I am a housewife, happily (?) married for 18 years and mother of a 16 year old daughter. At 39, I still have a lot of sexual urge, though my husband, who is otherwise loving & caring, is not much bothered about it.

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Her stomach fluttered with anticipation and excitement during that short walk on the beautiful, warm spring morning. She looked forward to the adventure that lay before her with excitement. The weather matched her mood perfectly. The dark months of winter were behind her and the morning sunshine warmed her pretty face. Angel felt her spirits lifted with the blossoming beauty of the day, which caused a surge of joy at just being alive to swell her heart in her chest.

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I was working late one Friday night when my boss told me he had an emergency at home and had to leave. He asked me if I could close the restaurant tonight. I was so excited. He had never asked me to do this before. I liked my job a lot. I was the assistant Manager and hostess of a small Italian family restaurant chain. It wasn't like it a big company or anything like that. But the family owned seven stores and they all did quite well. I was hoping that one day I would get my chance to run one of the restaurants myself.

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I had driven 25 of the 50 kilometres of my way home from the Christmas Eve celebrations I had at my girlfriend's home. I decided to call in on old Miss Tomlinson, my old retired schoolteacher, she and I finished school the same year; I at 16 and she at 60. That was 12 years ago. Why I decided to call in on her I have no idea still. Sure I saw her in her garden and waved as I passed her house on many occasions, but never once stopped.

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Walking through O'Hare airport in Chicago, I stopped short when I recognized my old friend Roger, whom I had not seen since our college days back in Oklahoma. Roger recognized me as well, as he smiled broadly and stuck out his hand. It had been almost 35 years since we had last seen each other and now we happened to meet by chance in an airport, both of us laying over for the night on business.

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It was a strange train ride to begin with. The Metro North is always packed to the brains with every type of person you can think of heading home from the City, but tonight I couldn’t even seem to find a seat. I hate having to sit with someone I don’t know; they invariably turn out to be some sort of schizophrenic who won’t shut up, asks you strange questions (“Would you like to know your future?”), or just plain smells.

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I took the job as a maid at the golf resort because, one, I figured I'd be left alone a lot of the time while I cleaned, and two, because what else was I going to do after high school? Work a bar, work a cash register at the feed store, either one I'd have to deal with assholes who poked fun at me for being a fat girl. I didn't consider myself fat, just sturdy. It wasn't because I ate potato chips and candy bars all day, it was just genetics that made me as strong as an ox.

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Show horses are sports cars. They're fast, smooth, sleek, and attract like kind in owners, trainers, and dealers. As the most popular of these steeds hail from the strong sons and daughters of a Central and South-American breed, most of these trainers, owners, and human accomplices are fine, muscular, dark-skinned Latino men who know how to move, in the saddle, on the dance floor, and even in the sheets.

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She was gazing through the window overlooking the pool, when Fran came up beside her, handing her a tall glass, frosted with dew. "Thanks, Fran, I need that on a day like this," she said, but her attention was outside. Fran moved alongside her, and the two women gazed at the view. "Penny for them," said Fran. "Just thinking that it's over two years since I last got laid."

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