Your erotic stories

One must love road trips. I know I do. Fate also has the most amazing way of showing you that even though you have it all figured out, there are certain things which can occur that are beyond even your wildest fantasy. I was driving down the road, coming home from a particularly horrible day at work. In the hazy mist of a cruel evening, something jumped in front of my Accord. I swerved to avoid it, which luckily I did, but managed to hit something else that was in the road.

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Summer vacation was winding down fast, taking with it the last vestiges of freedom that my sisters and I had been so thoroughly enjoying. All too soon, I would be starting my senior year in high school and it would be back to dull grind of boring routine. "Samuel T. Young, you need a haircut, young man!"

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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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Standing in front of the large, automated doors of the college library, Jacob Michaels, 23, released a heavy sigh. His mind was still in a whirl, trying to comprehend exactly why he was here. He worked at the college library as a student aide on regular school days, but this was his Spring Break! School was closed and so was the library. But he was forced to be here; told at the last minute that he had to work this week, the week of his only vacation for months to come, with one of the librarians to help make the shelves orderly and nice for the returning students.

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The following story is fictitious, of an explicit and adult nature. This story is not meant to be viewed by anyone under the age of 18. If you are under the age of 18, offended by adult material or such material is barred by the standards of your community, please leave this page now.

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The man standing in the doorway gazed across the room to the woman lounging comfortably before him on the bed. Dressed in an ankle-length skirt and long-sleeved blouse, the woman tilted her head to the side and gave him a seductive smile. "I didn't think you would come, Darien," she commented with a smirk. "After all, it has been quite some time since you've seen me." The woman shifted on the bed, adjusting the skirt slightly to reveal more of her leg.

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Claire and David were an average couple; just like you and me. They had gotten married almost seven years ago in the late twenties. For the first five years of their marriage, they focused on their careers and finances; saving money to purchase their first home. The day that they moved into the smallish two bedrooms flat in one of the safer and posh areas of London was the day that they threw Claire's birth control pills away. Within three months, they were pregnant.

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"What do you think of him?" Ed whispered across the table to Carla as he nodded in the direction of a man sitting up at the bar. The couple had been exclusively dating for a few weeks now. Ed had been telling Carla of his fantasy of having another man join their bed for a few weeks now. He wanted her to experience all the sexual pleasure there was possible and he thought having another male help to make love to her would satisfy her beyond her dreams. He knew one of those dreams involved a threesome with her in the middle.

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For all intents and purposes, this is a sequel of sorts of my first story. Those who read the first story know about the affair I had begun with John and how it helped liberate me from the shackles of my life. It takes place after my lunch with my daughter, Beth. She had gone to tell John about the man she had met and how she had already slept with this man. John reacted in bewildered amazement, according to my daughter, cursing at her before leaving the apartment. Beth called me immediately in tears, upset that she had made a mistake.

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I haven't always been like this. There was a time, as a younger woman, when I moved through the day without noticing everyone I encountered with the same eye for elements as I do now. Back then, a face was not a porthole to the inside world of men and women. The posture and carriage of a body did not reveal the food consumed, emotional baggage lugged, and the psycho/sexual energy of a personality. However, somewhere along the way, I developed these insights into people that left me feeling somewhat of a self-fulfilling prophet.

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