Your erotic stories

Fireworks burst in the night sky overhead and a menagerie of costumed men and women push past me on the crowded street. The inebriated celebrants shy away and let me pass when I glare them down with my practiced 'Do Not Fuck With Me' face. It takes quite a lot of practice to get it right when you're a five-foot-six woman. I scan the crowd and regain sight of you as you turn down a wide stairway and into an underground concourse. My lips can't help but curl up in a smile.

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Eva's work at her previous job, a beach club in eastern Florida called The Wizard, had ended abruptly and full of embarrassment when she found herself trapped on a ladder being exposed to horny drunk men. Departing her job, Eva barely said farewell to her coworkers, assuming that people were laughing at her unusual predicament. In fact, many of Eva's coworkers felt that Eva left because her boss had pushed her too hard.

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Mark Walker was sitting at a table for four in what was rapidly becoming a crowded bar. The place had been almost empty when he came in thirty minutes before, but was quickly filling with an after work crowd. Normally, Mark would have been facing the room but he had some work documents he needed to read and didn't want to spend any more time in his hotel room than necessary, so he had ducked into the bar figuring he would have a Manhattan while he worked. Who says men can't multi-task?

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Steve hobbled on his crutches over to the large picture window facing out to the front yard of his parent's house. A few weeks earlier he had broken his leg mountain biking with his friends and was going stir crazy. At twenty-six he had moved out of his parent's house years ago but it was a bad break and he was going to be in a full leg cast for three months. The whole summer, and his mother had insisted that he move back home so she could take care of him.

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You are on the phone and I cannot resist. I am drawn to the sound of your voice, just like Peaches-the-cat, and just as predisposed to purr as she is. You are sitting in your chair, staring sightlessly at the computer monitor as you talk. 'Ah, good,' I think, 'its not work-related.' I long to touch you and I do so, running my fingers over your bare shoulders and down your chest.

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I washed my bowl out and set it in the sink. Glancing over at the stove, I put the lid back on the pot of Chili and wiped my hands on a towel hanging from the oven. Turning up the glass of iced water, I all but chugged it down to wash the spice from my mouth. I knew I needed to quit eating hot chili. I dreaded the inevitable heartburn I would no doubt experience later.

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Authors Note: These stories are based on my life experiences. If you haven't read the first part of my story, I'd suggest that you do so... The names (or most of them) have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent. By the way, in case any of you are wondering after the end of this story, the answer is: "Yes, Cheryl is still a part of my life – even if we aren't roommates anymore."

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Just coming out of the shower and looking into the door mirror, I grin a little bit thinking of an earlier conversation I had with my business partners. Half of the morning they were discussing shaving their junk to make them look bigger. I remember being a little annoyed, but then I shrugged it off thinking 'Whatever helps them sleep at night'. But it got me thinking, so I just tried it.

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"Wow, its starting to pour." Amy said looking out of the kitchen window. 'How appropriate' I thought to myself. It had been one of those dreary suffocating fall days that drowns your psyche. I was already a bit out of sorts. I had met Kate at the "Werks" earlier for our "Saturday" conversation, but she hadn't been her normal self. She was polite as we chatted but she seemed distracted and distant.

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In high school, I was one of the premier jocks in our school. I dated the cheerleaders, popular girls, and even the less popular girls in other clicks. I was, by most standards, large. At 6'6", 225 lbs (then, not now), and thank you god, blessed to be hung like a horse, I have filled lots of tight pussies. An athlete of state honors level for football, basketball, and even baseball, college scholarships abounded. I accepted a full ride to a Div I college for football as a quarterback.

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