Your erotic stories

"I think it's wreckage of a ship. From the storm last night. It's not strange to find ship wreckage on the Cefalu beach after a tempest like that." Two scouts, on their regular patrol along the Adrano coastline while the forces of the Prince of Madness sought to invade the island nation, had stopped on the beach, their attention arrested by shattered ship planking and tangles of shredded sailcloth washing up in the surf.

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My wife had not been sleeping lately, I knew something was on her mind, I knew in her own time she would eventually come around and discuss it with me. What caused the change? I did not know, I could only associate it to a weekend away about two months ago. She had traveled to Cape Cod alone to take a weekend class, upon her return I noticed something was different.

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When you love music and like talking about it, radio is the way to go. But as a bill-paying career, it leaves a lot to be desired. I'm not complaining...well, maybe a little. I'm a single mother driving a 17-year-old car and one income from my noon to 3pm gig at a local rock station wasn't cutting it. The drive-time guys make the big money, especially if their ratings are solid, and I would go play with them on the air sometimes just to feed off their fame and get a couple of weekend remotes to pull in a few extra bucks.

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It was one of those situations I had heard about but never believed. Three friends were over at my house playing poker, and I was down about $300. It was a string of bad luck, really. My hands had been good all night, but someone else always had something a little better. Now, I am sitting here with a ace-high flush, the other three guys have gone in, but I do not have enough money to match them.

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Note from the Authoress: For any one who has read the Julie Journals they will know I always mention that my stories are a mixture of fact and fantasy. The content of this story is pure fantasy but the characters are fact. For that reason I have not included this as part of the Julie Journals. It is dedicated to a lovely intelligent woman and her partner who it has been a privilege to get to know.

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From the first moment I met Annie I was in lust with her. Petite with big blue eyes and curly red hair, she was a lithe little fox that dazzled most men. She was of course hopelessly out of my reach, being the girlfriend of Eddy, one of my best mates. Eddy and I played basketball together at uni and I'd been enduring his tales about his new girl for weeks.

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At 30, the peak of my female hormones screaming at me to do something with them other than finger my softest parts, I found myself still alone. I was afraid I wasn't beautiful enough, yet every time I looked in the mirror (other than on fat days) I thought I looked pretty good. Sexy, even. Long dark hair, pretty eyes, and a nice (though not perfect) line of curves that complimented the mild tan of my skin.

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The sharp rap on the door as the brass knocker banged urgently echoed down the corridor causing Jeff Lake to raise his eyes from his journal and look forlornly at the offending portal. He had just settled down to read an industry magazine, reclining back on the luxurious sofa, whiskey in hand. "God sakes! What is it now?" he muttered, putting down his glass and magazine and standing up.

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I was standing in the small room, in front of a curtained window. Paul's hot breath on the back of my neck was doing little to dispel the tension that was tying me in knots, even though that's exactly what we were here for. The room was pretty dreary really; just this curtained window and a padded massage table behind us against the wall. Tired paint on the walls, scruffed tiled floor and ceiling, as if men before us had been walking the ceiling and dragged across the floor, which, for all I knew, was exactly what had caused the scruffing.

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First of all, Nathan King ruined my life. Let's start with that. I was in business school, like the good little WASP that I was. I was going to be...I don't even know. I was going to wear the good suits, though, send my interns out for my coffee and send them scattering with a look if they got my order wrong (venti non-fat iced chai tea latte, they'd murmur to themselves in fear).

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