Your erotic stories

One of the hardest things for me to deal with in my relationship, after a year and a half of being together, is that I'm not the only one she thinks about when she's laying in bed at night. That sometimes, when she's alone, reaching down beneath the sheets to play between her legs, that it's not always me in her mind. Breathing so hard, trying to be quiet while the muscles tighten in her legs, arching her back to the waves of orgasm quaking her lower body and clenching her asshole tight with pleasure, biting her lip to keep from screaming someone else's name.

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He entered the room like a wild cat stalking his prey. She was instantly on alert, the hairs on the nape of her neck standing up. He scanned the tables, seeking her out. She slid down a little farther in her chair, hoping to delay the inevitable. His eyes locked on her, and his powerful stride brought him to the table. She sat up straighter, cleared her throat, and huskily said, "Hi Jon, how are you?"

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"Hi ya," I jumped at the unexpected voice and fought not to drop the drink I was holding. "What the fuck!" I gasped. Just as I lost my fight, and watched as my beer spilled out on the lawn. I glanced towards where the voice had come from, the next door neighbours garden. What I saw increased my shock immensely. Standing in the garden, now laughing softly at me, was a stunning blonde haired young woman. She was wearing just a small red thong and nothing else, which gave me a good look at her body.

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I don't really care much for politics. I'm neither a Democrat nor a Republican. I'm not liberal or conservative. I'm just -- well somewhere between Independent and "I don't give a shit." Therefore some might consider it very strange -- I know that my parents did -- that in early July, 2011, I took a sabbatical from college to work on Republican Colorado Senator June Jepson's presidential campaign. The reason -- I was fascinated by her.

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Madeleine sighed and hit Disconnect on the call window. Another rude asshole. She thought. The days were supposed to feel shorter when you have a lot of work to keep you busy, however bad calls like that made them drag on forever. "Hang in there." A pleasant voice floated over her cubicle.

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Lena hummed tunelessly to herself as she put away her groceries. Her voluptuously curvy figure, kept in check by four sessions of yoga a week and strict adherence to a healthy diet, was cased in snug denim and a soft knit sweater. Lena tried to keep her kitchen stocked with only healthy foods—whole grains, fruits and veggies, Clif bars. She knew that if she let herself snack on processed food, her toned waist would gradually expand and soften, and she refused to let that happen.

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"Excuse me Miss, but... blah, blah, blah" a man spoke to me as he grabbed my wrist as I walked past him. "I'm sorry?" I replied, turning to face him. The music in the club was so loud; I couldn't hear everything that he was saying. Still holding my wrist, he bent forward and whispered in my ear, "I said that you have amazing breasts!"

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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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It's a beautiful hot summer day and I'm in the front garden admiring my hard work. Weed free beds, blooming flowers soaking up the water I have given them, bees and butterflies dancing to natures tune. "Hey Mrs B, how are ya?" I'm startled, shaken from my reverie. I see Robbie's friend Dean on the pavement, looking young and fresh in shorts, jogging on the spot. I smile my automatic welcoming 'Mummy' smile.

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