Your erotic stories

The muscle car jammed to a stop, pavement ripping into tires, making a shriek only slightly louder than, say, a 13-inch masonry blade tearing through highway concrete. Choking slightly as acrid smoke of burning rubber washed over me, I ran to the driver's window and quickly negotiated a ride.

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It was summer. I was visiting with Sinéad (no, not that Sinéad), my aunt, in her very nice apartment in Chicago. Sinéad was 28 then, single, working, and not at home much. We would spend most of our together time on weekends, but I was pretty much left to my own devices during the week. I'd visited before from Ireland, but never alone or to stay for the whole summer.

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When my father died, I blamed my mother. Not for his death – the car accident that killed him was due to bad weather and a teenage driver – but for all of the unhappiness that settled on our home and stayed there after he was gone. My mother locked herself away in darkness, and tried to keep me there, too.

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This story is entirely fictional. ***** She was beautiful. Eighteen years old and stunning with her petite little body and long brown hair, just like her mother. When she was six years old, her mom had taken off with a friend of hers (whom I was always right not to trust) and she never looked back. She never called or asked about our daughter. She was just gone. It broke my heart but I got to keep Lacy.

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I always thought that Jessica had a beautiful body, although I tried my best to pretend not to notice. I was 24 then, and she was 21. We'd met at church 5 years earlier, and had been best friends from the beginning. Jess was one of those "comfortable with her body" people, which made it difficult for me to pretend I wasn't attracted to her on some level.

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"Do all you can to instill discipline in the class, Mr. Gibson. I have to warn you, these girls can be very mischievous," Principal Blake warned me at our early morning meeting. I was assigned to be a substitute teacher in an all-girls high school and was told by the principal how the girls in senior high often misbehaved, especially with substitutes

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It was Halloween and I was excited. I love Halloween; more specifically, I love dressing up for Halloween. I typically spend all year planning my costume, leading up to the big night when I would go out with my husband and our friends for a night on the town. This year I had dressed up as a British policewoman, with a short black pencil skirt, knee length black boots, and a snug white dress shirt with a black and white checked cravat.

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I made it through the week, not an inconsequential accomplishment in that strange year so long ago. 

I made it through Saturday, too. I wrote a little and did laundry and got some physical activity to try to take the edge off the tension I felt rising within me. I was horny and on a whim, I called up the web site of the Washington Blade, the local gay paper. I scanned the ads, and thought back to how things had been when i was just entering middle age.

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Josie Helling stood on the sidewalk in the sweltering heat of an extreme Manila summer. She waited patiently for the car to arrive, deciding against ducking back into the building where it was definitely cooler. The text message positively said 2:30, it was now 10 minutes before 3pm, and the car was still nowhere to be seen. She was going to be late for yet another meeting. This didn't surprise her anymore, being all too familiar with the horrible city traffic.

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"I've never had an orgasm." It took a few seconds for those words to register in my brain. It was so random, so out of the blue and so very unexpected that I didn't quickly grasp the meaning. Looking over at Sarah, I lifted my head to fully look at her and asked, "What?"

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