Your erotic stories

My name is Sharon and I'm 31. I'll be 32 in just under a month. My husband's name is Dave and he's a year older than me. His birthday and my birthday are just two days apart. We have been married for 3 1/2 years and currently do not have any children. Our sex life was pretty good before, having sex quite often. But like so many others, it became routine, and although I usually always had an orgasm, it just wasn't as exciting as it had been.

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Mrs. Khanna ran into Mrs. Sorabji as the latter was stepping out of an exclusive shoe store at Nariman Point in Mumbai. "Hi Yasmin," exclaimed Mrs. Khanna," haven't seen you in ages! How are you?" "Very well, thank you. And you?" "Oh, vadhiya ji vadhiya," said Preeti Khanna jovially, then her eyebrows knitted into a frown, "you are a clinical psychologist, right?"

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"You will wear the blue skirt!" she tells me, reaching to pull it out of the closet. I am already wearing the corset; black satin, laced, long suspenders linked on to sheer black stockings. Fishnet, she says, is tacky. Personally I think the whole suspenders-and-stockings thing is tacky, and much prefer bare flesh, but then, it's not for me to decide.

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"Shit! Shitshhitshitshit!" Sarah quietly screamed, looking at the scrape on the back fender where she'd kissed the nearby post of the mall's underground parkade. Tears welled in her eyes. "What am I going to do?" she lamented, beginning to hyperventilate, as she considered her husband's response. She wasn't even supposed to be using his pride and joy, a maroon Carerra 4. She wouldn't have been either, except that her Audi was making weird noises.

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I looked up from my desk as Jason entered my office. I'd been working tirelessly for the past two weeks on a project, rarely even taking a lunch and I was happy for the diversion. Never mind the fact that Jason was pretty damn cute and a nice way to be diverted. "Hey gorgeous," He grinned at me, "I'm going out for drinks with some buddies tonight, wanna come along?"

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Five years of working for the number one rated news station in the metropolitan area had landed me with the top reporters status. Usually the main goal in broadcasting was the anchor desk but for now I enjoyed going out into the people and not just smiling to them from behind a desk. My degree in journalism and my naturally good looks sped me fast up the chain of news reporters. Yeah my "pageant" good looks helped in such a visual field.

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Sharon stood out the front of the large sandstone Rose Bay home and slowly unfolded the piece of paper in her hand. She checked the number against those written on the piece of paper that had been handed to her three weeks earlier. With a wave over her shoulder the taxi driver pulled away, leaving her alone to begin the second stage of her burgeoning sexual development.

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Paul's parents were out of town and his sister, Kim, had decided to have a few friends sleep over. He got along reasonably well with both his sister and her friends, but he certainly didn't feel like hanging around the house while they watched chick flicks and painted their nails, so he went out with a few of his friends.

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My husband and I were in the process of moving out of a tiny apartment in the city and remodelling an old farm house about thirty miles from the beltway. It actually made him closer to work, and neither of us wanted to raise a child while living in an apartment in the middle of the state capitol. We were finally seriously discussing children after being married for eight years.

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Nora. Red-haired, round-bottomed, small-breasted. Thin, lithe and angular. Shaved her pubic hair into patterns, depending on her mood. Tattoo of a treble clef on her ankle. Her relationship before me had been with a woman. After me, she moved in with a couple. Sometimes I led my girlfriends (later, my wife) to the dark side. Nora had a steady table there long before I got to her.

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