Your erotic stories

The thunder cracked loudly, startling me out of the doze that I was just starting to drift off into, and I realized that I probably wasn't going to get much sleep tonight. I knew that with all the driving, the setting up my tent, meeting all these new people, and the anticipation of the rest of the weekend, it was going to be tough for me to get any good sleep the way it was.

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Gary eased himself into the very hot waters of his hot tub. The contrast of the hot water to the nearly zero degrees of the freezing night air always startled him. It was nearly midnight and other than the light of the moon, it was dark in his backyard. When the clouds passed between the moon and Earth it became pitch dark. Gary wore no bathing suit, as usual, because no one could see that he was naked, even in the clear daylight. His wooded backyard assured that he could be naked in his hot tub without fear of being observed by neighbors.

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"You have an admirer baby," my wife said as we sat together in a gay bar. She smiled at my admirer and he made his way to the empty seat at the bar beside me. Carole had convinced me to come to a gay bar with her so we could fulfill a long time fantasy of hers. She had always wanted to have a threesome with two guys but she wasn't interested in the other guy.

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I hadn't seen my girlfriend Erin in almost a month because of our current situations, so I was feeling really excited to be with her as I walked up the steps to her place. She lived in a small rented apartment, which she shared with two house mates, Kathy, who we got along very well with, and John, who I didn't know well but who seemed nice too. The three house mates had each just found the rooms separately, but it had turned out to be a very functional living situation.

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I was sitting in my living room that Sunday morning, working on the broken clasp of one of my anklets, my favorite anklet. The most expensive piece of jewelry I owned, it was a silver chain studded with diamond chips given to me by an ex-girlfriend. But the price tag was hardly the reason I cherished it. She gave it to me last year for my twenty- fourth birthday and I considered it a sign of how she felt about me. I was in love with her and it was her way of saying she felt the same.

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My name is Jan, and this is my story of lust and shame. I'm in my early twenties, 5 foot 7, slim but with a curvy, feminine figure, 34-24-35. My long flowing black hair contrasts my porcelain fair skin and my pretty, delicate features. I'm of Chinese-Thai descent. My family made their fortune in the timber trade, and thus my family is immensely well off. I live in a huge mock-Tudor style mansion set in a sprawling garden with a swimming pool, with maids tending to my every need.

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I was bone tired, filthy dirty, hungry and thirsty. Four hours of slinging sand bags in the rain will do that to you. I wiped the water from my eyes for the millionth time and looked around. The guy who had been working next to me for the last hour or two was slumped on the ground. I sank down beside him. He had about worked me to death handing me bags for me to place. I looked down the wall of the school building.

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From the first time she walked into my shop I wanted her. I love femmes, particularly older ones. And I have a definite affinity towards nicely dressed, fit, attractive ones. I know, who doesn't? You don't have to be 50, black and butch for that. My name is Serena. I'm a single lesbian living in, well, perhaps that's not important. I own and operate a shop I call "Asides".

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It was safe to say the WPC Barbara Hardy was not a well liked woman. Not by her family (who had all but disowned her), not by her colleagues (who she had managed to either get up the noses of, fall out with or try to get into trouble) and certainly not with the criminal community in Preston. She was good at her job though, very meticulous and officious and liked to not give anyone an inch if she could help it.

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I have mentioned in other stories I have written here that I worked for many years as an English professor at a small but expensive New England college. I retired at the age of 65 as a result of the college's policy of mandatory retirement—a stupid idea in an age when most people live longer than they did in the past and most retain their brain capacity. I continued to live in the same town and the same house that my late wife and I had occupied for 30 years.

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