Your erotic stories

Walk on the Beach, to Dance in the SKY The brown grass brushed the side of my calf with a feathery touch as I walked past it. I felt shivers, and then goosebumps ran up my skin. With my sandals starting to slip in the sand, I walked past the half-faded warning sign.

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She sat there reading on her computer and surfing like usual. Her thoughts began to wander and a slow smile crept over her lips. She opened up a chat program to see if he was online and beamed when she saw his sn there. He was often busy and she hated to interrupt but she remembered him telling her not to feel that way so she just jumped in and said hello.

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It was a reasonable summer's day for England, the sun was out and it was quite warm. Not warm enough to sunbath by any stretch of the imagination, but it made my 300 mile trip back from University a bit less grim. I am always in a better mood when it is a nice day. I had the radio on singing away. I was wearing a white skirt and a white vest top.. The skirt was well above my knees, not super short, but not massively long either. The vest top stopped just above my navel showing off my belly button piercing which I had had done on my 18th birthday just because I was never allowed one before that.

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Hi, it's Julia. You may remember me ... Sheri, Julia? Me, the Cougar taken and turned. Ah, I see you nodding. Good. It's been four glorious years for us. I still blink when I look at her. She's just a wonder ... and she's doing very, very well at work too. (Me: winking) Yeah, the jokes are still lame and the sex is still fabulous.

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Martine looks down the row of women, each one standing perfectly still with their hands behind their head and their elbows just touching the girl next to them on either side. She sees blondes, brunettes, redheads, women of every race and color, a celebration of female beauty. They are all naked, oiled lightly, and each one has the exact same expression of perfect joy on their face.

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I was sat with Steffi, wife of an old friend, who was currently, like me, watching her husband on the dance-floor with Jan, my wife. Now that it was towards the end of the evening it was a slower dance. Jan and Mike were dancing closely. Um, no. Jan and Mike were dancing very closely, in a darker corner of the dance-floor.

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After a fairly brief fight with cancer, although it seemed long as she experienced it, my wife died. We were both retired, our children have children of their own and live a few hundred miles away. So, after the funeral and everyone returning to their own lives, I was on my own. It's difficult adjusting to that. I mean, after a long marriage where you become sort of two halves of one organism, to all of a sudden be alone.

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I recall a trip I took to Chicago, it was 1977, almost 15 years ago, and my first unaccompanied business trip. I was 29 then, and my career was just taking off. My schedule called for three days of meetings and seminars. But, I had my own room, with my own king size bed, and I was looking forward to two evenings of uninterrupted privacy.

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My wife Debbie received a call from an old friend who said her and her husband were coming to town for a long weekend. Jane and Debbie were real close before we were married. Jane got married shortly after us then her husband was transferred out of state.

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I'd seen Deborah all over town from time to time, and knew her casually. She is in her early to mid thirties, a tall woman, married and the mother of three. She's always been the picture of motherhood, doing all sorts of things to support and raise her children and doing them virtually as a single mom. Oh, she's married but her husband is more married to his work and his cronies than to her and his children.

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