Your erotic stories

"Lissa?" Jill tossed her purse in the corner as she walked into the apartment, her dark hair sticking to her forehead in the sweltering heat. She knew that it always irritated Lissa when she left her purse there, but at the moment, Jill wasn't all that interested in making Lissa happy. "Where the heck have you been?"

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"Ouch! Damn it Rocky, cut it out, that hurt!" Tanya's skin burned where the wet tail had slapped onto her arm and back. She was in a foul mood already and her bay gelding's uncharacteristic fidgeting was making it worse. She aimed the cool water at his tail which immediately clamped firmly between his legs. "You big baby, the water isn't that cold."

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He pulls slowly past her house, noting with satisfaction that the windows are dark. She's either sleeping, or at least back in her room. All he needs to do is figure out how to get in quietly. He circles the cul-de-sac, then coasts his motorcycle into the drive...cutting the engine as soon as he's off the road. He steps off the bike, and removes his helmet and coat. He'll keep the soft leather gloves on, he decides.

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Gwen couldn't believe they had actually found her guilty. In today's world of proving one's own innocence she had thought that her plea would ring in the ears of the jury, but they hadn't heard. And now she was on her way to Graverly. A tear slowly trailed down her face as she looked down at her body. She was already naked, having been stripped of her clothing while still at the courthouse. Part of the punishment.

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The cleaning girl, Monica, had arrived early on Friday afternoon. "Good afternoon, Ms. Stephens." Monica said. "Please, call me Jennifer." Opening the door to her two thousand square foot home, the tall, statuesque woman smiled at her cleaning girl. The eldest daughter of a neighbor down the street, Monica had grown into an incredibly sexy young woman. Jennifer shut the door behind her and stared dreamily at the young woman, shaking her head slightly.

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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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