Your erotic stories

Damn, Alyson thought, she's doing it again! "She" was Melissa, Alyson's roommate, and "it" was Melissa's distracting habit of running around their apartment half-naked. Today it was just bra and panties, as she stood ironing some clothes for her date that night. They were pretty skimpy little panties that left nothing to the imagination. Well, actually, they left a lot to Alyson's imagination.

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I sat in the lounge, swirling my gin & tonic, absently tapping a finger to the piped music. Nothing about this trip had lined up as it should have: a week in Florence, now on my second day in Rome, with nothing to show for it. My backers would not be pleased, but I was not concerned with their disapproval. I'm too much of a professional to place anything above my own standards.

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It was late, just after 2am, and my wife Lynn and I were finally getting around to going to bed. She hates to go to bed alone, so when I have work to catch up on, she'll normally stay up with me as late as is necessary, surfing the web, playing Solitaire on the computer, or reading until I'm done. Sometimes when she gets interested in something she finds online, I end up waiting for her instead.

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By way of background, you might want to see my earlier stories Nightime Disturbance and She Wants Rid. Fortunately, Lisa the girl's virginity I took "properly" in She Wants Rid didn't become pregnant and I didn't really see much of her before we both started at our respective universities. This is another true story also set in the late 1980's when there were no such things as MILF's. Instead sexy older women were known by the colloquial term of "Mrs Robinson's." The following is the true story of my encounter with a certain Mrs R.

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Wine, Peg's father used to say, is a double-edged sword. As a child, she'd puzzled over how anything liquid could be simultaneously solid and with a sharp edge no less, but now she knew better. The lowering of inhibitions, the loosening of tongues, the enhancement of whatever mood you happened to be in -- these were the actions of wine, for good or for ill. Inhibitions kept you from doing or saying the things you might regret, but they could also stand in the way of trying something new and exciting.

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He had been tracking his female's scent for days when he located her. Immediately he recognized who she was and what she meant to him. It had taken him awhile to realize that the circling path she was wondering could only mean that she was lost. Amazing, he had never known any of their kind to be lost. She was obviously young. Panic had struck him for a moment that she would be too young. However further study of her scent established her age to be well into her breeding years.

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The scent of cooked turkey still lingered in kitchens across America and the shops and stores were already decorated for Christmas; the coffee shop where Carol sat being no exception. Disconsolately sipping her latte, she didn't feel in a very celebratory mood. The promise of employment that had motivated her to leave home and move to the city hadn't materialized and now she was homesick, low on funds and still job hunting.

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Olivia scurried nervously down the pot-holed street of the poor, downtown neighborhood of the city. Having grown up in the wealthy suburbs, she had only visited this part of town once or twice in her life. She recalled coming down here with her father on one of his business errands a couple years back. As she breathed in the hot night air, she recalled from that earlier trip the same sweet, slightly rotten smell of the city in the summer.

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"Just look at the view from this place!" screamed the excited new associate. The balcony at the Metropolitan Theatre overlooked the multitude of rows of patrons shuffling to their seats, getting ready for the show to begin. "Get used to it," said Heather Franklin. "We're in the big league now." "And to think we're barely starting out at the firm," said her animated friend. "Did you see the signing bonus? It's more than everyone at our old place made put together."

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Chapter 1 Over Christmas and New Years, our neighbors took a holiday in the warmer climes, I certainly can't blame them; here in Wisconsin, it's cold. Their son, Rick, who'd just gone off to college, was not expected to be around with any consistency so they asked me if I would water plants and bring in the mail and such which I was happy to do.

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