Your erotic stories

I am wearing no knickers and a blue miniskirt that displays my slender, tanned legs. I sit on the motorbike and feel the vibration of the engine run through me. The photographer tells me to hold still while she takes the pictures. It's hard not to wriggle. She runs off a few shots and stops. I puff out my cheeks and lean back to take the pressure off. My nipples are hard and straining at my tight, white t-shirt.

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I had been teaching university classes for about three years. I was lucky to be looking for the job at just the right time, it wouldn't have nearly so easy if not for issues among the faculty at the time. I never found out all the details except that the administration had to hire a decent sized group of teachers the year I started. Not only did it get me a job, but it also meant that as a younger woman I didn't stand out quite as much against the older men who still made up the majority of the staff.

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I wake in the morning, wrapped in silken sheets. Instinct has me curling my arms close around me. The slide of the sheets causes me to shiver slightly. The newness of the material feels wrong against skin that has felt only rough fabrics. I run my fingers over the scars on my left arm, reassuring myself with a familiar gesture as the night before slowly unfolds in my mind.

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Lynne called the other day and asked to have lunch with me. That could mean only one thing. She had another match for me. Lynne runs a lesbian matching making service that comes perilously close to being an escort service and hence prostitution. The only thing that keeps it legal is the fact that both parties to the match must pay a fee for the introduction. What takes place after the introduction is simply whatever two consenting adults agree to do.

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Rita was sobbing at the kitchen table; she worried how she could survive and take care of her 18 year old daughter Kimberly. The 37 year old mother was distraught; her whole world had turned upside down in an instant. No sooner had Kim went off to school when her husband called to tell her that he cleared out their bank account, was running off with another woman and not to try to find him as he was leaving the country.

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I first met Saskia at an art class. I was posing nude and she was one of the students. When I got the chance to see her painting I let out a gasp. Unlike the others it was clearly me, but me as she interpreted me. My hair, quite blonde in real life was jet black in her painting, but she had captured the way it was styled so beautifully. My skin tone was a lot paler too, much more like hers and my lips were bright red, also like hers.

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As I got back into my car, I could only imagine what the night would have in store for me and Megan. Her taste was still fresh in my mouth and her scent was still alive in my senses. I smiled as I pulled out of the parking lot and adjusted my rear view mirror so I could see Megan as she tailed me. She had a big smile on her face because she knew as well as I did that we were about to have a night that we would never forget.

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When I was 19 I worked four nights a week in a youth club, St. Patrick's Y. C. It was a very popular youth club which attracted children and teenagers from a wide area in the west of the city. The club itself was actually a couple of large huts; the type you might find that act as additional classrooms in some schools. The interior of the club rooms was bright and welcoming and housed a variety of seats, tables, snooker and table tennis table.

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The rippling fire from the fireplace casted a glow over the bedroom suite as Norah sat against the metal headboard with her wrists in silver handcuffs attached to the bars. She waited in trepidation for her kidnapper to make an appearance again. Her prison was a comfortable one for the room gave off a warm and cozy feel that had a wonderful view of the city she had grown up in.

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My name is Jill. This story is about how my best friend Laura and I first discovered the joy that two loving females could give to each other. All through our years at University I had initially admired Laura for her poise and strength and I had a crush on her that I would barely admit to myself, unwilling to admit that I may have lesbian tendencies. One time in our final year it came to a head.

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