Your erotic stories

I look at the clock. It's 8 p.m. It's a Thursday night and I'm still at the office. My report is due Friday and I've got at least 2 hours left on it. My whole team has gone home, and my interest in working for another two hours is waning. It's been a long hard week. My stomach starts to rumble. Good idea, I'll get some food. It may motivate me to get this crappy report finished.

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Sarah stood in the shade of the thatch-roofed picnic shelter, sipping on a diet coke as she spitefully contemplated how her weekend had been completely ruined. After two continuous weeks of stressful work, she had been relishing this much needed weekend to herself. That was until Friday night, when a dreaded phone call from her cheerily coercive mother had ended all her hope of relaxation.

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I was sitting in my living room that Sunday morning, working on the broken clasp of one of my anklets, my favorite anklet. The most expensive piece of jewelry I owned, it was a silver chain studded with diamond chips given to me by an ex-girlfriend. But the price tag was hardly the reason I cherished it. She gave it to me last year for my twenty- fourth birthday and I considered it a sign of how she felt about me. I was in love with her and it was her way of saying she felt the same.

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"I hate her," Joe muttered as he watched Natalie bounce through the crowded college courtyard. Two years, they had been together. Two years of wasted emotion, compromises, and plans. Hell, they hadn't really started making love until these last few months, and that's why he had thought she was the one. "'Let's save ourselves until we're sure,'" he grumbled.

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I can still remember the first time I asked her if I could do it. I had always had a fascination for tasting my own semen, you see. My wife Megan had indulged me certain levels of satisfaction in this matter but refused to let me give her oral after sex. She said it was "gross".

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"What was your most interesting photo shoot, Natasha?" Alex asked. His digital SLR snapped in the silence of the hotel room. I held my pose, wondering how honest I should be. "Well, I did a shoot last year wearing nothing but body paint," I offered, the over-stuffed comforter pressed softly between my legs.

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At first glance, you probably wouldn't guess me for the type that I really am. I look no different than any other college student. Eighteen years old, medium long blonde hair, nice smile, honest eyes, decently built. I spent most of my time like all my other friends. I go to lectures, I do my homework, I party, I go out with friends. Nothing really special...

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It had been a long week. Not a bad one, but just long. There had been so much going on for both of us, that at the end of the day we barely had the strength for a kiss and a hug goodnight, much less anything else. The only thing that I really had going for me was our showers together in the mornings. I don't think she fully realizes that after all our years together, I find her even more beautiful each day than the day before.

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"So I leaned over, farted and Silly String flew out my ass," Kayla said, snapping me back to reality. I pulled my attention from staring her feet and looked directly at her. I didn't realize how obvious I'd been. "Good to see you're back," she laughed. "So are you going to listen or just ogle my feet?"

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Melissa kicked off her sandals as she walked into her best friend's apartment. Her very drunk best friend was close behind. "I just need a little nap," Amber slurred, shuffling toward the bedroom she shared with her boyfriend Sam. He was spread out on the couch in their living room, reading a magazine.

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