Your erotic stories

My last client walked out the door. Thank god, this week was finally over. It's not that I didn't like my job, I did. In fact, I loved it. But after five days of listening to other people's problems it was definitely time for me to focus on my own needs. It was Friday night and I was looking forward to a fun weekend. The potential was there.

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Wow! Where to begin...... Well, I guess I can start from the beginning. I am a straight, married woman. But I have always had a secret desire to experience intimacy with another woman. And until recently the thought of really persuing my desires was just a wild taboo fantasy, that would always be just a fatasy! Well, I was wrong!!

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Please, don't ask me to explain how it happened, I don't know myself. Perhaps it was a late-night noise which awoke me from a pleasant dream, perhaps it was merely the need to see that everything was all right, that the windows were closed and the door to our shared apartment locked, or to get a drink from the communal kitchen.

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I'm hearing words I never wanted to hear again, ever, in my life. Biopsy. Malignant. Cancer. I can't for the life of me remember leaving the doctor's office, but I'm sitting in my car, key in the ignition, door open, one foot on the concrete, and I can't breathe. The wound on my breast is throbbing, as if it knows that what was hidden beneath the flesh had evil intentions.

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I am just another twenty something girl living her life in Portsmouth. Life here is probably typical of most places its always who you hang with that matters. I have lots of friends and am usually busy most nights hanging at the pub with my mates, enjoying a glass or two just passing the time as best as we can.

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They say that gold is power, but "they" are mostly male, and thus idiots. On the day she decided to stop living on goodwill and bland virtue, instead using her power for its hell-intended purpose, the witch did not begin dabbling in alchemy. After all, what do men pay gold for? Surely that's more powerful.

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The last of our friends leave, which leaves us alone in her room and the entire house. I sit nervously next to her on the bed, and drink some of my beer. The only thing I can think about is what happened last night. I'm too embarrassed to bring it up, but she does it for me.

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"It's a girl, Mom!" My son-in-law Zack chirped exuberantly through the phone. "It's a girl. You have a beautiful granddaughter." Pressing my cell phone firmly to my ear, I couldn't believe how blank my mind had suddenly gone. Of all the things I thought I would say at this moment, I was at a complete loss for words and was finding it difficult to breathe.

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Everyone in this story is over eighteen. It may seem a little slow to get going, as I've attempted to explore the girl's feelings as she takes her first steps into Lesbian love, and is then taken into willing slavery. 'Can I help you, Sonny?' had said a gruff voice from behind the market stall. That did it. Just past my eighteenth birthday, and the combination of track-suit, short hair and no make-up had me marked as a boy.

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She thought I had forgotten. It's pretty impossible; it's two weeks after mine exactly. Her temper tantrums as of lately have been cute. It'll make tonight so much more fun. I haven't said anything about her birthday and it's cute that she's stressing about it. Not to toot my own horn or anything but, I'm the best girlfriend ever.

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