Your erotic stories

Being a virgin at 20 didn't make Chelsea a prude, but she was definitely in the minority amongst her peers. She was sitting in her room, musing on why "it" hadn't happened yet and could definitely come up with a few reasons, none of which were the traditional ones. No, she wasn't saving herself for marriage - god that could be years from now -- or never! Neither was she waiting for just the right guy -- at 20 she was pretty sure he didn't exist.

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I slammed the door behind me as I walked in the house, getting home from work. My boyfriend, Jason, had called me while I was driving to tell me that he wasn't coming over tonight. I was incredibly angry at him -- my parents hardly ever left me home alone, and I had been looking forward to having him over for most of the weekend. I had planned everything out, and had spent most of the day thinking about taking him into the hot tub, where we would fool around, ending the night with a long session of sex in my room.

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I got to my desk to find a bright orange donut and a small gourd on my desk. Next to it was a note. I opened it. "Halloween Masquerade Ball" and the date on the weekend. I pushed it aside. I hadn't had a date in months and wasn't planning on going alone. I'd stay home and on the real Halloween, hand out cavity causing candy to the urchins on the street. Later in the day Noah from accounting walked by my desk. Then he walked back the other direction.

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The first time my next door neighbor Richard screwed me I was pissed. He borrowed my lawn mower a couple times, never returning it with a full tank of gas but always remembering not to clean the machine. Okay, you don't get to pick your neighbors, but he could have shown a little courtesy. It got worse a few weeks later when he "borrowed' it without asking and proceeded to ruin the blade by attempting to cut through some dense overbrush in the back part of his yard.

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Ok, so here's the deal. My name is Marissa Adams, I'm 18 years old and I am a maid at a hotel/casino in Las Vegas. I'm not complaining, pay's good, my co-workers are great and I meet very interesting people and a few stars. Just last week Shaq was staying in the NBA Suite. But that's no where near the best part of my perfect job.

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This story takes place in the summer of my 19th year. I had returned to my hometown after an accident which had left me hospitalized for two months. Upon returning I needed to determine a direction for my life. I had enlisted in the army and was awaiting my active duty date in late 1969 when the accident happened. The damage to my body was sufficient to cancel my enlistment and give me a get home free pass from Uncle Sam’s party in Viet Nam. While many of my friends had suffered as a result of that war, I was not sorry that I did not have to go.

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Simon's hands automatically went to my waist, slipping low to cup my ass in his palms. I'd already pushed him past the point of no return, but he was still trying to reclaim control of the situation, feebly asserting his authority. "Amy—we can't," he said. "We said we wouldn't." Even if there had been conviction in his voice, the presence of his hands on my ass and the way his mouth opened against mine, his hot breath filling my mouth, made his true feelings clear. I felt a little guilty for pushing him, but not enough to stop.

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Drew put-in before Dooley Bridge, his goal being to photograph the length of the river through town, marking its changes as it went from rural to urban to estuarine environments in the space of four miles. Being June and approaching the summer solstice in this northern state, the sky began to lighten before five in the morning. Drew had been up since four, having loaded his kayak onto his Subaru the previous evening. His main goal was to be up before the tourists and their jet skis, and he had provided himself a wide buffer.

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My name is Tanya, and I'm a chat room addict. It all started last year when I went on Facebook to reconnect with friends from all stages of my life. It was so much fun to find people and update each other on what had been happening in our lives. And that's when I started to chat. Chat really opened up the world for me. Faster and easier than a phone call. You could even chat while on the computer doing work or other stuff. Chat with friends all over the country and see their pictures. So I really got into it big time.

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Millicent Burton, Milli to her friends and co-workers, leaned back in her chair, stretching her arms back to release the tension that had been building in her shoulders all day. The financial report she'd drafted was due tomorrow and she wasn't going home until it was completed. At 44 years old she'd risen to the top of the company she'd started with as a young woman and as joint acting C.O.O she still had a lot to prove to the men who'd put her there.

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