Your erotic stories

What to write about? What to write about I mused to myself, my mind momentarily blank. Glancing through the pages and pages of stories in Literotica you could be forgiven for thinking that just about every topic for a story had already been used. I sat back in the chair pondering on possible story themes and as I did I started thinking about my life so far.

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I had just stepped out of the shower when I heard the doorbell. I wrapped the towel around me and dripped to the front door. Guys are much more able to do that than girls are. We can drip, and show up at the door in only a towel from the waist down, and no one thinks it's a come-on. If a girl does it, she's just asking for it.

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He shivered and pulled the collar of his coat up higher, trying to keep the cold rain from running down his neck. Obviously his decision to walk to the art gallery had not been a good one. Hopefully Angie would be able to do something about his wet clothes. Angie was the owner of the small and very successful art gallery.

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Ok, so, where to start? I chatted with Jessica online. Told her straight up I was just there to chat, but we really hit it off. We had a lot of the same fantasies and sexual desires. Exchanged pictures and liked what we saw. Still, I was amazed I agreed to meet her for lunch. I'm just breaking my own rules left and right lately!

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Doug shook hands firmly with Chow Min, sealing the deal. He'd learned a long time ago to be firm in everything in life and had since earned the reputation as a shark. He didn't mind. It meant that his business was the envy of other companies. It meant he was the best. It meant that people who had once looked down on the backwater kid from Louisiana now looked up to him as employer.

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Peaches, peaches everywhere but not a bite to eat. I was pondering upon my existence and lack of life while downing my second glass of whisky. A hunger deep inside me resided for many months with no opportunity for quenching. Suddenly a gorgeous peach appeared before me begging to be eaten. Mind oblivious to my body's actions, I was madly devouring the fruit with out any thought involved.

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Mom and I hadn't been up to visit Aunt Sandy, Uncle Bob and Cindy in three years, but I hardly had to wonder what Cindy would look like: our mothers were identical twins, and Cindy looked just like me: tall, slim, redheaded, and small-chested. Well, not exactly: seeing her with her hair cut short was a surprise. So that's how I'd look with short hair, I thought.

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Dan, Gina and Tori were good friends with many things in common. They were all 20, they all lived in the same apartment complex, they were all in college at a school on the east coast, and all three had significant others who went to school on the west coast. They met each other at the neighborhood pool, and after they discovered their common long distance relationship predicament, they formed a sort of lonely hearts club.

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Brad dictated the last of the letters to his secretary and asked her to type them up and have them on his desk in the morning as he was leaving for the day as soon as he made a few phone calls. When he got off the phone after the last call, he stretched his large, athletic frame and stopped for a moment to reflect upon his good fortune in winning his recent election to the House of Representatives.

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Every year William and I hold our "Come as You Bizarre" party. Everyone is required to dress in a way they never would in real life, in a way that would make their friends laugh, cry or recoil in shock. Last year I was a Playboy bunny, the year before, a scantily clad wench. This year, I chose a skin tight black wet-look catsuit, one that showed off every single curve of my body.

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