Your erotic stories

In all the fantasies in my mind, I'm a thin, svelte, beautiful woman. In real life I'm a plump, voluptuous, attractive woman. I have curves like a real woman, not angles like Barbie. The man I'm looking for doesn't have to be a Ken. (Actually, I don't want a Ken, because I want a man with working parts.) I'm not adverse to finding a good looking man. I like a sculpted chest, and I love a nicely formed ass, one that fits well into my hands. Those usually are my standards, I have been known to take a chance on a man who doesn't meet those rules.

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You gotta see your husband's fabulous new office, was the way he'd put it. Even now the words ring in my ears as I masturbate to climax on lazy afternoons. Frank Finlay was Peter's new boss. Peter's my husband -- a kind, good looking, trusting soul. Perhaps it is his trusting ways that are the cause of this.

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For generations, the Royal Family had been protected by the elite Royal Guard, given the best training and the most advanced weapons to date. With a proud heritage which stretched back generations, the Royal Family had always been under the protectorate one family.

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I was lying on my stomach recovering from a massive orgasm with Seamus' huge fat cock buried up my snatch. I could feel his cock pulsing and throbbing. I had just finished being driven through my second orgasm. The first one was almost simultaneous – I had started coming first and was writhing and screaming when Seamus, riding me hard, fired his load up my snatch. We rested a bit with his cock buried up my snatch until he was ready for another go around;

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A new family had moved into our area this year and their son Danny Watkins and mine Alan had befriended each other, I didn't particularly like him, I couldn't quite put my finger on it but there was this feeling about him I didn't like. He seemed to be one of those bad boys to me, but he had never done anything to make the really unreasonable assumption I had of him.

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Toni came awake slowly. She could hear voices in the distance, and as she opened her eyes, she saw medical equipment and monitors all around the room she was in. Her emerald green eyes darkened as she wondered what she was doing in a hospital. She checked herself over, moving her arms and legs to find nothing broken or wrong except for a slight headache and a little stiffness in her body.

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Rory sat on the edge of the bar, looking towards the entrance and repeatedly checking his cell phone. Every time he did so, his disappointed sighs grew more and more resigned. He had tried calling and sending text messages, without success. Where the hell was Jack? "What's the matter, gorgeous?"

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Behind her closed eyes, Beth's distress began welling up. "Damn, damn, damn! You're twenty eight now and those days are supposed to be well over," she agonised to herself. "What on earth made you do that?" Rehearsing at least three profuse apologies at once, she eased her guilty eyes open. The flaring off the open fire was dancing all over the beautiful startled face, now a good two feet away.

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Going to try for a long chapter after this one. The events I've written for now aren't really conducive to length without getting overly tedious. Thanks to those people who submitted comments. I really appreciate the input. Lastly, I've been told my transition between perspectives could use a little work, so any tips or suggestions there would be phenomenal.

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I'm hearing words I never wanted to hear again, ever, in my life. Biopsy. Malignant. Cancer. I can't for the life of me remember leaving the doctor's office, but I'm sitting in my car, key in the ignition, door open, one foot on the concrete, and I can't breathe. The wound on my breast is throbbing, as if it knows that what was hidden beneath the flesh had evil intentions.

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