Your erotic stories

You have this look on your face of intense concentration as you lock the door to the apartment, like a man on a very serious mission. This makes me giggle because I know what we're about to do, and knowing our dirty little secret makes me giddy. You catch my eye: "What are you giggling about?"

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The tissue box is empty and my heart is in a million pieces. I sound like a cliché, don't I? At least there aren't pints of ice cream in my system. Oh great, that's the only thing I have going for me – I didn't binge on ice cream. Way to go, Ashley. The relationship I thought was the one and only of my life is over and it ended messy.

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One Friday morning, mid-November, I was surprised to receive a call from Ben. With his new job in the City, I never usually heard from him during the day, and rarely saw him except at the weekends. "Hi Ali," he said, sounding very anxious. "Are you free to talk?" I looked around, intrigued, a little worried, but there was no one in earshot. "Yes. What's up?"

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You've barely been online for five minutes when the email appears. The subject line is blank, but you open it anyway, curious to read what I have sent you. However, this is not a day for words, and you stare at the empty white box, momentarily confused, until you notice the attachment. It's a video file, and is simply labelled 'Watch me'.

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I took a big gulp of water from the wet plastic bottle, and set it back down in the cup holder of my lawn chair. The hot sun was beating down, slowly cooking my legs and bare chest, and the sound of quiet voices passing by was lulling me to sleep. "You look awfully cute in that straw hat Bobby," a familiar female voice said.

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The late afternoon sun shines strongly, casting long shadows on the ground. I search through the crowd, looking for my friends amid the mass of people standing, staring towards the stage. Where I am is still some way from the band currently playing, with only the tallest able to get a decent view. So everyone is mostly stood like near-inanimate zombies, their only movements are the odd step to the side, or a tilting of their heads as they seek that perfect view of a few guys playing guitars and drums.

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"Can I help you?" the woman at the front desk of the hotel asked. "I have a reservation. Tonya Benton." The woman's smile faded a little as she clicked away on the computer. After a few seconds, she said, "I'm terribly sorry, but we don't have any rooms available." Tonya gave a shake of her head, tossing her red curls, in disbelief of what she'd just heard. "What? I have a reservation. I made it a month ago."

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Sometimes in life we become so lonely that we are willing to do most anything to fill the void. Frequently we do things that are risky and foolish. Often our high risk actions come with unexpected consequences. Clair Davis woke late that Saturday morning. As she sat up she looked at the digital clock sitting on her nightstand. The red numbers displayed ten thirty.

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I suppose trouble follows me because I look for it, but sometimes (more often than not) I find myself in the wrong place at the wrong time (or as I would say, the right place at the right time). Such was the case on New Year's Eve.

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Jeff and Kris were a happily married couple. They had experimented sexually before their marriage, but with marriage and children, things had slowed down. They both wanted more time together, but struggled to balance it with the demands of life. Jeff decided to whisk Kris away for a vacation for two. He arranged for the kids to be taken care of while they were gone.

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