Your erotic stories

Henri smiled. Susan liked the cheerful, guileless concierge-come-garçon de café that was as much a part of the pavillon as the faded, not-quite-peeling paint, the louvered shutters and the balmy salt breeze. She'd come to treasure this quiet little place on the Côte d'Ivoire. Henri's warm grin and genuine welcome greeted her every time.

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I hate camping; I think that it is the stupidest thing ever. Why would people want to go out into the wilderness and with no bathroom, no shower, and no electricity? But despite that my Dad would insist once a year that he and I went out to this obscure little clearing in the woods which wasn't even a real campsite. We would go out pitch a tent; eat fish that he caught in the lake, and sleep on the cold hard ground. 

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Gwen sat down on the hotel bed in frustration. She and her girlfriend Julie had come to Atlantic City for a "girls' weekend", just to get away from the daily grind of kids and housework. Instead of just hanging out and having fun, though, Julie had headed straight to the casino bar and made herself the center of attention. Now just a few hours into their trip, Julie had disappeared and Gwen found herself alone, slightly buzzed and very horny.

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I was always amazed at how someone from my past unfailingly seemed to turn up on opening nights of exhibitions. It didn't seem to matter which city I was in, some old school friend, long lost family member or an acquaintance from the photography fraternity seemed to find the ads for my openings in the small print and turn up to say hi.

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I love banking. I love it. The adrenalin. The buzz. The intellectual demands. And - the money. Wait a moment - why did I use the present tense? I should have said, "I loved banking." I loved it until the discrimination suit which went in my favour, but which also meant I was out.

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Anna's parents came from Europe. Her father was a tall blond from Poland and her mother a red-haired beauty from Ireland. Yet poor Anna was stuck with the wrong branch of the DNA. She was six feet and then some in her socks. Her face was plain with a broad forehead, long jaw and beaked nose. Most of her height was in her legs. She wore men's jeans with a 30 inch waist and 36 inch inseam. Her hair was neither blond nor red but a sad mixture resulting in a rough brown. Her height served her well in obtaining a volleyball scholarship to college where she majored in business.

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It was early spring in DC. While my love life was hardly what I would call "on the skids", it had been lackluster as of late. One would naturally assume that the night club scene would be a meat market. To a great extent, it is. Night after night I went to various spots. My friends had gotten into the habit of telling me during this period that I was too picky or that I just needed a good romp to get out of my funk. I would laugh it off.

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"Redhead by the bar," I nudged Michael. He raised his eyes, found her, then winced. "Too sexy for me?" He nodded, "Too sexy for you," then slowly sipped his soda. "I thought so." She looked again in my direction. I froze, caught staring for the umpteenth time. The first time I noticed her was earlier that night. I was sweeping the pub with my eyes when they landed straight on hers. She smiled, nodded discreetly, and turned away, leaving me confused and embarrassed, as if I had been the one snooping.

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The big Jag pulled into an empty parking place at the top of the cliff. The Irish sea roiled under storm clouds beyond the guard rail. A woman emerged from the powerful car and walked hesitantly to the rail, tall and graceful in high heels. She was old now, nearing her fifty-first birthday, but still striking, body lush and curvy, the legs still well toned in their black stockings. Her white silk blouse did little to hide a bust that had been called the highest peaks in county Mayo when she was young.

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The summer of 2009 was a little bit expensive for me. Five weddings – complete with overnight hotel stays, wedding gifts, bachelor parties, cash bar – drained my bank account rather quickly. So when my girlfriend asked if her sister could split a hotel room with us for a hastily-planned sixth wedding of the year for one of their cousins, I was all for it.

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