Your erotic stories

"Hon, would you get the door. That's probably Mark" Jenna, like usual, was running late. A pile of dresses lay on the bedroom floor, as she scrutinized the latest choice in the full-length mirror in the upstairs bathroom. Although the latest option was not as flattering as she'd hoped, she realized that it would have to suffice if they were going to make their dinner reservations, and she frantically began the process of applying make-up.

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Luck is a funny thing. It has a habit of rolling around when you least expect it and when it shows up it sure can be a beautiful thing. Of course what may be good luck for you may have your best friend way up shit creek without a paddle. This story of luck and misfortune started years ago when I met Tim in college. We met at a frat party and became fast friends.

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Part of me hates this man, whom I'll call "X" for now. We didn't get along as a couple, which is why we broke up in the first place. I didn't even hate him when we broke up- it was very amicable, the old ‘we're just in very different places right now,' blah blah blah… but very soon after the split, I found myself fantasizing, over and over again, about the sex we used to have. It became totally consuming, to the point that I finally found myself breaking down and calling him on the phone one day.

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Lorraine Marie Burk checked her e-mail every day before going to bed; no one ever really mailed her anything personal. But she did use it for reminders of special TV programs she wanted to drop in on and other special dates of interest. She was going through the inbox this particular day and spied a message with slut written in the subject field.

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Brandy smiled as she assessed her reflection in the full-length mirror on the back of her bedroom door. She had tried on her new work uniform and what there was of it, fit her like a glove. Brandy had just completed her freshman year at college and decided to make a little money over the summer. She had accepted a waitressing job at Hooters and the famous orange satin shorts and white tank top had never looked better.

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Robin walked into Christine's office and stood in the doorway watching her. As usual she was on the phone, chatting to her friends whilst surfing the net. At the age of 35 she was still very good looking. Black hair, trim figure good legs and she knew it too. Robin had been working for her for a year and a half and he had spent many a night fantasising about what he would like to do to her. In his hand now was part of that plan to help him make those dreams come alive.

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Karen glanced at the clock, frowned, and realized she had probably missed the director of accounting by fifteen minutes. It was 6:45 in the evening, she was hungry and stressed, and this folder of papers was promised to be on his desk before he left the building. She picked up her phone and dialed the extension of his assistant. Three rings ... four ... voicemail. No one there. She pushed the handset hard into the plastic cradle in frustration, slid her feet back into her high-heeled shoes beneath the broad oak desk and pushed up from her tall, black leather seat.

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He stopped her in the hall on the way to Jason's room, and Cali could tell by the look on his face that he wasn't happy with her. She had seen him coming, and even though every part of her screamed run, she knew better than to try. He grabbed her shoulder, his large hand engulfing her flesh, his fingers digging into her skin as he pushed her up against the wall and leaned in close. She had to fight with her body to keep from going into panic mode, struggling to stay relaxed as the adrenaline surged through her.

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The whistle didn't surprise her. At 46, Nancy Pace was still attractive. In fact, partly due to her recent interest in Roger Mitchelson, the up-and-coming real estate broker she'd begun dating, she was feeling more sensual than she had since her marriage to Bill ended, more than 5 years ago. The fact that she'd finally gotten breast implants last year, along with a regimen of collagen and Botox treatments, had her feeling downright sexy, most of the time!

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I won the lottery. Really big....over 300 million dollars paid out over the next 25 years. In my late twenties and now filthy rich. What to do? What to do? After I won, I did all the things that you are supposed to do: traveled, bought a nice house, not too big but certainly big enough, and pampered myself with all the gadgets and everything else to fill out my home. One of the things I pampered myself with was Sarah.

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