Your erotic stories

The door opened before the third knock. She must have been standing there waiting. The thought warms me as I look into her pale cream face. Her skin is smooth and spotless except for the tiny freckle under her left eye. Liquid aquamarine eyes hold my gaze as my fingers brush softly up her defined cheek bone. I drag my fingers through her silky smooth onyx hair and cup the back of her head in my hand.

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My lessons had been going very well with Ms. Candy for quite some time. My skills "tickling the ivories" had even improved somewhat too. Good thing too, because my mother was always very interested to hear how I was doing with the piano lessons. Ms. Candy was going to be touring Europe for a month. Being a kind soul, she had arranged for her sister, Ms. Honey, to give me lessons in her absence. On the way over to her house, I couldn’t help but wonder how much Ms. Honey would be like her sister.

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So finally we meet. God, you are even more radiant and exuding that perfume that I only have heard about so far. Your Irish eyes crinkle and sparkle with mischief as you smile at me, taking in my gauche nervousness. "Nervous, boy?" you ask me teasingly. I try and laugh it off, blushing furiously.

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How long can you last just sitting by the hotel pool on holiday without getting bored? I can go about an hour before I start to shuffle. Have you every got so bored by the pool you played imaginary games? Looking at the bikini clad women and guessing if they have shaved, trimmed or hairy little cunnies, if they had a good pounding last night, what they look like when they come and, my favourite, my top ten shagables in each position.

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It was always a fantasy of mine to model for an artist. I do not think I really cared where the artwork would go, be it for personal use or to be on display for the world to see. It wasn't the fame or glory that I cared about. There is something exciting about striking a pose for someone to examine you in all your glory and imperfection, capturing your details into another form. Clay, paint, photos, charcoal drawing, all of it excited me.

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Chapter 1 I walked into her office and closed the door. She had a large black desk with glass on top, a leather chair and two chairs in front. She offered me one as she sat down behind her desk. A name plate, resting on her desk, said Susan Conner Pres. and she had a few other items for decoration.

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This is more love story than sex story. If you hang in there long enough there's eventually some sex, but that's not really what it's about. Don't say I didn't warn you. If that's not what you're looking for, if you're too young to view this legally, or if the idea of two women falling in love and having sex just weirds you out - go outside and play.

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Sara's story I met DeAnn at work. The company always hired temps to have a chance to evaluate them for a while before putting them on regular. I noticed her right away, her dark, brooding eyes and straight, black hair and, unusual for me, I was sort of transfixed by the size of her jutting bosom.

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Julie Fry sat in her office, with the door closed, tears slowly rolling down her cheeks. Her world had come crashing down around her ears that morning, and she was not sure what she could do about it. As the Accounting Manager for Larsen Construction, she had, for the last 3 years systematically embezzled over $150,000. Phony invoices, from phony companies, the checks all ending up in her husband's bank account. She had, like all criminals, assumed that she would never get caught, but she was wrong.

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"Can you come here please?" I hear your call from the bedroom, though the question is really not so much a request. Curious, I walk down the hall noting that the light in the bedroom is still off. I stand in the doorway. I can see your silhouette against the streetlight that shines through the window.

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