Your erotic stories

"Bad news." I looked up from the chart I was perusing. "Never a good thing to say in a medical clinic," I replied. Sally, my administrative manager, grimaced. "Sorry, but true nevertheless. We overscheduled today." I set the chart on the counter I was leaning on and groaned. "Let me guess. My turn?" She nodded in sympathy. It didn't happen often, but occasionally, too many nurses would be scheduled for a shift. We took turns on who went home (without pay), and I knew I was next up.

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Jason stood on a rock overlooking a deserted beach beneath him. The cool sea breeze that sent an occasional whiff of salt up to him was a delightful refreshment under the glaring sun. He felt slightly dazed, uncertain if that was due to the heat, the amounts of red wine he had been drinking the night before, or ... he rubbed his eyes, incredulously.

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I had been trying to write a Great American novel for years but had only succeed in writing an episodic tale of a town, an episodic tale of a singer, and a convoluted science fiction story. My agents found online publishers for each but not print publishers. My agents were a lesbian couple that would kindly be described as colorful. I described them as batty.

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Excitement coursed through my veins as I walked onto the University campus for the first time. I was nineteen, away from home for the first time, and about to open a new chapter on my life. I had enrolled to start in the winter semester. I had decided to pursue an MBA, with the ultimate goal of developing my own line of clothing.

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Sometimes the way things work out can make you smile. Recent events in my life came together to bring my husband and myself some unexpected pleasures. I will start by introducing myself. My name is Addison Jeffries. I am 30 years of age, 5'10' and I've got long, wavy, auburn hair. I'm an attractive woman and slightly vain about my looks, so I work out daily and run and swim. I own a travel agency and can afford to dress in the latest, form-flattering fashions.

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I sat at the casino bar all morning and into the afternoon. Even though I looked old enough to drink, I was sure the only reason I wasn't asked to leave was because I ordered only soda, and I probably looked like I'd been through enough grief. I didn't talk to anyone, and they quickly understood it did no good to try. My eyes were fixed on the floor behind the bar, but I saw nothing. I didn't even notice the bartender shift changes until I snapped out of it around 4pm. I had been sitting in the same spot all day.

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When I was at college my younger sister grew through her teens, and those friends of hers I remembered from childhood as daft little girls turned into some attractive young women. On my times back home between terms I'd find some hot young chick or other in my parents' kitchen keen to see their friend's brother again and shoot the breeze with an 'older man'. Amongst, Amy - my sister's - gaggle of friends there had always been 'the twins'. Mainly Caroline, one of an 'identical' twosome.

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I was definitely less than thrilled about spending the night on Kate's lumpy couch, but I also understood that there really wasn't any other option. I certainly would have preferred sharing Kate's full-size bed with her, but I couldn't see that actually happening. It wasn't like there was a whole lot of room in her small Manhattan apartment and since April was staying with her for the summer, she had dibs on the small guest bed.

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"You don't think I'm a slut now, do you?" She asked, looking up from the picture. With her bright green hair and the sour-apple sucker in her mouth, she looked like a character from a bad anime. I couldn't help but wonder why she had shown me the pictures. Was there....? She nudged me with her hip and brought me out of my musing. "Well, do you?" She asked. "No....no honey. I don't think you are a slut." I said, shocking myself at how smooth and even my voice was.

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There's something about reading other people's stories, I keep thinking is that real, did they really do that? It's so much hotter to read something that really happened. So I thought why not tell one of my own true stories. It happened last Christmas, after a friend's wedding. It was late and the other guests were mostly gone. We'd stayed up drinking with some Army officers, in no hurry to get back to our room in the hotel.

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