Your erotic stories

I rolled over to look out of the window, frowning at the sound of chirping birds, and then glanced over at the clock. I shouldn't complain, right? After all, everyone had been bitching and moaning about the dark, cold, snowy winter months. Chirping birds meant spring...and ultimately summer. So what if it was 8:30 in the morning? The birds weren't governed by human clocks...fucking birds.

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From the darkness of sweet oblivion she awakened to gnawing pain. It took her some time to realize she was lying on the floor in the living room. She tried to sit up, but a lancing pain her side nearly caused her to scream. When she did manage to sit up she had to hold her arm tightly to her side, there was no doubt in her mind that ribs were broken. Her left eye was swollen shut and she could taste the unmistakable metallic taste of blood in her mouth.

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We have finally gotten a week to ourselves. I have a great surprise for you. I have told you that we are going away to our little hideout in St. Helena and you have packed accordingly. I also have told you that we are taking a long route to the Napa Valley and that we may stop for a swim or a drink of something on the way. The kids are taken care of for the week and you are showing signs of relaxing as we pull out of the driveway and head out of town.

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Can a woman be a flirt and still be a loving wife? I say, yes, because I'm married to one! Barb and I have been married for many years. We were high school sweethearts and married young. My Barb is tall, slender, attractive, and very vivacious. She meets people easily and has seldom known a stranger. Part of what drew me to her was her flirtatious manner.

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There she was, sitting at the bar just like she promised. I couldn¡¦t believe it. The lady in the black cocktail dress was as hot in the flesh as she was in the few pictures that induced me to meet a total stranger in a hotel bar. Granted, it was a nice hotel... and some of those pictures had stimulated some mind-blowing orgasms. Albeit, self-induced. But what red-blooded man wouldn¡¦t wank himself senseless over pictures of a classy, naked slut?

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She was sitting in a booth, facing the front door. I walked up to her and smiled. She was still beautiful, maybe even more so. Her hair was not as long as she wore it when she was a young woman; now it was just above her shoulders in a very chic, professional cut.

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The morning mist covered the grass and flowers; it was a beautiful May morning in Georgia. Birds were chirping and a slight breeze rustled the leaves in the trees that lined the long driveway that led to a spacious mansion. It was difficult for Nora to believe that she was only sixty miles out side of Atlanta;

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The theater was dark. I walked in shyly. Knowing what was about to happen excited as much as it scared me. But there was no going back. A dare is a dare. And I had secretly dreamt of this one for years. The only noise inside was that coming from the movie. Moaning and panting, enough to tell, even with closed eyes, that I was in a pornographic cinema.

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I first met James at a Christmas party my parents were throwing. He was the contractor they had hired to put together the new house they were building as an anniversary gift to each other. It would be a lot bigger than the two stories, three-bedroom house I had grown up in, which meant that there would be plenty of room for either me or my sister if we needed it, which wasn't something I was about to complain about, considering that at twenty four, I was about to run back home with my tail between my legs.

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"-Do you trust me?" Moira asked. The sun was setting over the southern Ireland countryside, sending long, soft shadows from to tree to hedgerow and slowly turning the sky red. They sat on Moira's couch in her quiet cottage. She had her arm around the younger woman's shoulders. Sinead's school books lay scattered on the coffee table.

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