Your erotic stories

"Wash up, lazybones, and take those furs to Sir Charles," the tanner ordered. The day's chill turned his breath to a liquor-laden mist. "Sir Charles, Father?" Tanners asked, confused. The tanner rolled his eyes to the heavens. "Oh ye gods, why curse me with such a stupid boy?" He turned to the young man. "The banker, the one whose son you don't like. He's offered three gold for the lot."

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It had been the week from hell. The boss had been on his tail all week, everything that could go wrong had gone wrong and, to top it all, head office had sent through a memo late on Friday afternoon stating that there were to be cut backs across the board and that staff would be losing their jobs.

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"Well buddy, it's been a long time. Come on I'll buy lunch." Ralph said. "We have a lot to catch up on. How's Sally? Still as gorgeous as always? I sure would like to see her again." We went around the corner to a greasy spoon restaurant, sat and ordered burgers and fries. Having not seen each other for a couple years we had a lot to catch up on.

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The early night air was warm and the skies clear enough to see the crescent moon shining brightly, the stars around acting like a thousand small fireflies as they danced gracefully, adding to the beauty. A tall, lone figure descended the Central Library steps on this particular New Zealand Spring night, late in the season, it was November. The figure paused to look up and admiring the beauty, took a photo with her IPhone 4, then continued walking towards the bus platform a few streets over.

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I met Lynne for a drink after work. She said she wanted to talk to me about something which means that she more than likely has a match for me. Lynne runs a lesbian match making service. As long as both parties pay the fee for the match it is not legally prostitution. I pay a very small fee and my matches almost always pay a very hefty fee which Lynne and I split 50—50. That comes really close to prostitution and when you factor in the tips that I get, well . . . .

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The young waiter smiled and felt his pants tighten and his bulge tingle as the two women emerged from the tennis courts to sit at one of his tables of the hotel's outdoor bar slash café. Nice, he thought. I'd love to give either one of them a fuck before I go home tonight. Maybe both.

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Miranda had just turned twenty-one. With hazel blue eyes, soft blonde shoulder length hair, and a smile that made most men melt, Miranda had been looking forward to this particular weekend for quite some time. Her two very best friends, Joey and Frank had been talking about taking her out for a night on the town for her birthday celebration. She had known Joey and Frank for years, never intimate with either of them, though they had certainly flirted and teased one another on several occasions.

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My wife Alexis, along with wives and girlfriends of a few of my friends had been complaining that the guys always got together to play poker, but the women never had a "Ladies Night" out. So a few weeks ago they finally planned one. I agreed to watch the baby and all the guys came over to watch the Pacquiao fight.

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My name is Alicia. I'm an eighteen year old recent graduate from high school. My eyes are blue but I had to dye my hair blond. I was born blond but my hair turned darker as I grew older so I decided to change it back. My friends all say I'm a pretty girl but sometimes I question their wisdom on that. You may catch me from time to time in front of the mirror making faces, trying to determine whether my nose is too wide or my cheekbones are too high.

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I picked up the office phone when is rang, expecting a client. It was the middle of the afternoon in the middle of the week and I was tired and a little cranky. I perked up when I recognized Jan's sexy voice. "Hi you luscious wench. You sound a little down. You OK?" I said I was just a little tired.

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