Your erotic stories

Ramsay closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and unzipped her jacket. Her mother would have never let her leave the apartment had she seen how her daughter was dressed. The snug, low-cut camisole didn't quite conceal her lacy black bra; the hem of her plaid skirt fell several inches above her knees. Her black patent stilettos were decidedly of the "fuck me" variety. Ramsay peered down at her ample cleavage, watched it rise and fall as she struggled to catch her breath.

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"Maggie - please don't," Oliver Taylor said as he took the last step backwards before he was up against the wall of the guest room of his daughter's house, and as he looked into the eyes of his daughter's only child all he could think of is what his late wife had often said.

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Sunday Morning in early March. I joined the regulars for coffee after a disappointing Saturday night; I hate to be part of a closing crowd, and so I'd left the Paradise Bar with fifteen minutes to go before the bitter end. It's my age, I suppose. As fine as I know myself to be at thirty-five, I just don't feel like competing at singles bars any more. So there I was, listening to the morning-after banter about the night before: Who did, who didn't, who got lucky, who got away.

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I was at Steve's place having a beer and a chat; I heard the front door open, and the voices of Steve's wife Judy and daughter Becky came in. They had been out to measure up some things in a flat that Becky had bought. Both came in and I stood up to say hi, I receive the usual kiss on the cheek, and hug from Judy and then from Becky as well, as she said, jumping up and down, "Hi Bob, nice to see you, it's been a while, how you doin?"

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Everything felt cold to Hannah, in these last few minutes of her life. The wind up on the roof blew sharply, swirling and gusting in a way that whipped her long blonde hair into her face and cut right through her thin dress like she wasn't even wearing it. She wished she didn't feel the cold;

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Patterson and I had just ordered a pizza when his phone rang. He glanced at the Caller ID window and looked up as the waitress brought us a pitcher of beer. "Sorry, dude," he said. "I need to take this one. It's Mom." He looked away and lowered his voice as he turned his attention to the call. I tried to pretend I was suddenly interested in the clever "Go Tigers!" declarations hanging on the walls of Sal's Pizza.

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Janet and Clarke had a pretty good sex life, right from the get go. They had that special chemistry that allowed them both to trust each other enough to be comfortable so that they could both get right down to the core of what turned them on. They both had their share of kinky things that they each liked and they always seemed to be discovering new fetishes and turn-ons. But, as comfortable as they both were with each other, there were still things that hadn't been fully realized between them.

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Kendra Mercer untied the strings of her Missoni bikini and let them fall away from her shoulders, leaving the tiny triangles of fabric perfectly balanced on her firm, perky breasts. She let her body sink into the plush, cushioned lounge chair with an indulgent little sigh. Life was almost perfect. After several years of dating Luke Prescott, the son of one of the most important and politically influential families in New York, she was finally engaged. Kendra glanced down at the 5-carat platinum sparkler on her left hand, admiring the way the sunlight bounced off the diamond.

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Notes from Penny The next morning Penny came to my bed and shook me awake. She was already dressed, ready to go to work. I looked over toward the nightstand. The alarm clock said 6:10 AM. I sat up and swung my feet to the floor. Penny handed me a stack of five porn DVDs.

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The bass is hard. The temperature is hot. "Bar in the front, dancing in the middle, pool in the back...thankfully Aussie pubs aren't much different from American bars." I don't really attract that much attention until I open my mouth and order a coke. Then every eye is on the American with the weird accent ordering a decidedly "wimpy" drink. I shake off the stares with a smile as I peel my glasses off.

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