Your erotic stories

"I think my diets would work a whole lot better if the food I ate went to my ass and not my belly," Dawn mused, "Then I could starve this booty into submission." Next to her, Maria chuckled. "Honey, I don't want to hear about how big you think our ass is," she said, "Especially when you're standing next to this!" Dawn giggled as her she watched her mother give herself a little smack on her big bottom, sending ripples across her cheeks.

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Franklin sighed heavily as the phone on his desk rang loudly. He had just been promoted to a management position in the sales firm he worked at, and after a long day of wrangling unwilling underlings, the last thing he wanted to do was take another phone call. But duty was duty, so he picked it up.

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About six years ago I was in university and living on campus during the summer along with a few other guys, including a guy I roomed with off campus during the school year. Jeff and I were in the same program and we were taking summer classes while working for our department. He and I were fairly big geeks and only occasionally would we do social things like going to the bars to drink and socialize with friends.

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It should arrive in three to five business days; my order of sex toys to surprise my wife with. Damn I can't wait. I'll probably be at work when she gets the package; I wish I could see the look on her face as she opens the box. This is what she will see: A three pack of butt plugs, small, medium, and large. All are clear red rubber and I can't wait to see them in my wife's ass.

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"Character," Kristin said. "The most important part of any piece of fiction. If you start writing with only a plot in mind, you will struggle with your characters. However, if you start with your characters, they will create your plot for you." The writing workshop was nearly full. Kristin Morris had had eleven books on the romantic bestseller list. Her current historical romance, "The Sands of Fortune," had been holding steady on the list for nearly eight weeks.

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It was Friday afternoon and I had returned to the hotel suite after finishing with my best friends dress rehearsal for her wedding which was Saturday evening at 6 pm. I had about 4 hours to kill before my husband and I needed to be at the rehearsal dinner. Steve, my husband, was out playing golf with my dad and my brother and wouldn't be back for another at least two, maybe three hours.

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Sharon and I have been married close to seven years now, and for the most part it's been great. The sex isn't as plentiful or varied as it was at first, but I gather that's par for the course. I've never felt the need to have sex with anyone else, unless you count Bruno. I consider myself completely straight, but a while back I bought a dildo (that's Bruno) and I like to use it on myself whenever I get a chance. Even that had purely heterosexual origins.

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Ursula almost remembered the dream that night. The alarm shattered most of it; even as she was waking up, the strident buzzing noise crashed through the memories, leaving nothing but fragments. She grasped at them, trying to hang onto something, anything at all. There was a hand, she knew, a hand sliding down the swell of her hip and...and a taste like wet rubber...no good. It was gone. Ursula hit the snooze button, but the dream didn't come back.

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Katherine stumbled out onto the uneven back stoop, audibly groaning under the weight of the heavy-duty trash bag. It was full of crumbled plaster and strips of wooden lathe and swung ponderously, threatening to pull her over with each uncertain step. As her foot slipped on the sloping stone slab she overcompensated and was forced to let the bag drop with a heavy crunch. Catching herself with a sideways grab at the door frame, she slammed backwards into the peeling paint of the old wood siding.

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I am leaving work about fifteen minutes behind everyone else. I got stuck on the phone and missed the mass exodus to the parking garage. I hate walking though the structure in the dark by myself. Even though nothing has ever happened here, I still don't feel safe. The dim lighting and confusing echoes make me nervous. I walk quickly with my head up, clutching my keys tightly in my hand.

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