Your erotic stories

This is an edited version of the original. A comment mentioned that the ending of the original didn't really fit and after reading it a few times, I realized he/she was right and I changed it. I hope you enjoy. "Love has nothing to do with what you are expecting to get - only with what you are expecting to give - which is everything." - Katharine Hepburn, Me: Stories of My Life

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I hadn't seen Linda since she and my daughter, Shellie had graduated from high school over four years ago. They had been best friends but had gone to different colleges. They had kept track of each other through email and the phone. I kept track of Linda by accident through chance meetings with her mother. Linda's mother and I would talk and update each other as to our daughter's comings and goings over those four years. In my mind, I still pictured Linda as I last saw her at the High School graduation.

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The slip of imported paper shook in his hand as he stood waiting for the elevator. Shaking hands were something he had gotten used to on the drive to Bal Harbor, his mind cluttered with thoughts that she wouldn’t be there, that he wouldn’t be on time; or even worse, that she would be and he would be prompt.

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The parties that went on at 69 Brentwood Street were legendary. When Luke Prescott received the invitation email by Blackberry during his final year at NYU, he had high expectations. The house was a three-storey brownstone on the Upper East Side, and was being rented by three of the hottest girls in university. Kendra, Lacey and Chloe were commonly referred to around campus as 'The Babes on Brentwood.'

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'Honey, get up!' Leah repeated as she struggled to wake her lover. Hayley was an adorable little thing, much more so when she was cocooned in their bed covers. But this wasn't the time to be admiring little nymphs! Leah scrambled to the window yet again. Hayley's parents were getting out of their car. Shit!

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It was more than three years ago since he had seen Anne, Joss mused as he sat in the train to Rotterdam. Yesterday evening his phone had disturbed him during the first minutes of his sleep. It had been Anne who had invited him to come to her place and have a drink.

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It was Saturday evening and I was getting changed to go out to dinner with Nick. I had just taken off my tank top to change into a blouse when Nick came up and kissed me. It was one of those long sensuous kisses that I love so much. While I was concentrating on the kiss, he quickly cuffed my wrists before I knew what was happening.

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I haven't always been like this. There was a time, as a younger woman, when I moved through the day without noticing everyone I encountered with the same eye for elements as I do now. Back then, a face was not a porthole to the inside world of men and women. The posture and carriage of a body did not reveal the food consumed, emotional baggage lugged, and the psycho/sexual energy of a personality. However, somewhere along the way, I developed these insights into people that left me feeling somewhat of a self-fulfilling prophet.

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It started innocently enough I just never thought it would go as far as it did. I became acquainted with Suzanne through a popular erotic story website. In my spare time I write erotic fiction and Suzanne provided feedback on a few stories I wrote. She said she like my stores and wanted to know when I was writing more.

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It was a Friday and I had a test, I didn't want to go home afterwards because the kids weren't going to be there, and I really didn't want to be alone after such a hard test. Oh the wonder of it all, what was I thinking going back to school. I could be making money right now, and not having to worry about anything other than enjoying my new found self. Something inside of me just won't let me settle.

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