Your erotic stories

"I'm sorry, Deena," her lawyer was saying. "You can't expect to stay in business the way you're spending money. My god, girl! You made almost $300,000 last year, and you're $22,000 in the hole, now!" He shook his head. "I'm glad you and my wife aren't friends," he muttered, walking away. "Oh, and you have to be out of the office by next Thursday," he added, over his shoulder.

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It was accident that Phil had caught the earlier flight home and came home in the middle of the day he told himself. Still he had stood transfixed for half an hour peering through a small crack in the door of his lounge room looking at the scene before him. The hard on in his pants betrayed the excitement he felt. He had come into the house and hearing a giggle and a sweet squeal of a woman's voice half expected the television to be left on in the lounge room and his son watching daytime television rather than studying for his exams.

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Hi, my name is Amy; I am a happily married woman, with a fully grown daughter. But lately with me and my husband both turning 60 years old, I feel unfulfilled; my husband tells me he is just too old for sex and that we are old enough to give it up. But I couldn't, if he wants to stop, it is his choice, and I will not force him, so to get what I needed I just masturbated when I felt like it, which was almost every night.

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I tore off one of the phone number slips from the bulletin board post and figured I would at least give it a try. Just the kind of job I was looking for, high pay (for a college kid at least), and didn't sound like a lot of work. I had never been an artist's model, or even really knew what that entailed. I was an engineering student.

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In those days, I didn't wear underwear. I had long hair down to the small of my back. I was in good shape, lean and muscular, a bike rider with thick legs and a laid-back demeanor. You probably know the type. So a certain kind of woman often responded to me. A certain kind of man, too, although I'd never given that a thought. For my part, here's what I liked in a woman: Natural, sensual. smart. Sexual intellectuals. Open and daring, although even if they weren't, I usually got them there pretty quick.

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Bodies entwined... skin sliding against skin... slick with sweat... legs tangling together... hands exploring... lips tasting... moans of pleasure... a whispered voice... "... Madison... " The room was in near darkness, only the glow from the hearth cast shadows on the wall. Through the sheer drapes of the bed she could see two bodies, locked together in passionate embrace, their movements sensual and rhythmic.

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I arrived at my Alaskan destination after four different flights, including one float plane. It was late in the evening but the sun wasn't cooperating; the natural lighting made it seem about 5pm. I was due to start a new seasonal job the following day. My first impression of my new "home" was positive: the air was brisk and clean, the snow looked pristine, and three absolute hunks came out of the bunkhouse to help me with my luggage!

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Not a soul in the long hallways of the University on a Saturday afternoon. I was trying to figure out where this office area had been. I opened doors on the sides, and found one leading to a cluster of offices which could have been the right place. I was probably going further than I should have, when I heard a voice behind me.

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When I write my stories, I am concerned with one an only one thing - trying to create a mood of tenderness and longing. Sometimes I probably over do it. And I end up getting into such heightened state, I get really worked-up - and I write most of the really "haunted" love stuff when I am right on the edge. When I re-read my stories, I can tell that parts were created in that shaky mind space.

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Cal Benton turned his Honda CL350 off Interstate 70 at the exit that said "Sawtooth Mountain, 10 miles," and stopped the bike on the overpass looking back toward Denver. Only 50 miles to the west, he was already well into the front range of the majestic Rocky Mountains. He sat silently staring back toward the plains, reveling in the snow-capped peaks and vast valleys that spread behind him.

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