Your erotic stories

"You've never had an orgasm?" "That's not what I said. I said I've never had a man give me an orgasm. I've kept Eveready in business. You gave me a few when we were teens, I pay a surcharge on my electric bill for vibrator use and I let my fingers do the walking, but no man has ever been able to get me where I want to go."

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My phone buzzed. Looking down at it, I saw that it was a text message from Emma. Looking in the rearview mirror, the blue and red flashing lights of the state trooper that had just pulled me over spiked into my eyes and the high beams made my eyes water. Pushing the button on the phone, I read the message. 'Where are you?' it said.

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There was a chill in the air as we got into the car, but the sun was already burning off the early morning dew, and the low lying mist seemed to give the impression that even the clouds were still sleeping in the fields. 'It's going to be a hot day,' I said. 'In more ways than one,' he laughed, setting a whole host of butterflies into flight in my stomach.

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I have been home from work barely five minutes when there's a knock at my door. I open it and smile at the tall, skinny man standing outside my door. "Natalie." He leans forward and kisses both of my cheeks, his hand caressing the back of my neck. "Come in," I step back and give him room. "Where are we heading tonight Sammy?" I ask, returning his kisses.

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Beth had been a good friend of ours ever since we had moved out to sunny Santa Monica two years earlier. My wife had met her at work when they were both receptionists at a mail order company. She and her husband Steve had often came over for dinner or met us for a movie. I had never cared for Steve as he was self-absorbed and bitter.

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Wednesday was hump day for Janie in more ways than one. It was the middle of the week, it was the day her mom wanted the kids to visit her, and it was Janie's day to cruise the Mall. She loved the eye candy at the Mall and the peace of not having a four year old and a one year old climbing and clinging to her.

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Monday was an uneventful day. I went to work, came home, and relaxed with Sandy. No mention was made of the events from the previous day. We went to bed and drifted off to sleep in each other's arms. I was totally surprised by what was awaiting me at home on Tuesday. "Baby, I'm home." I yelled that Tuesday afternoon.

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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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Dallas and Eve had hinted around to each other about wanting to go to a "club" like the one he'd found on the internet. You know the type of hint; those sort-of cloaked suggestions that are buried in nervousness and a bit of shame. And you know the type of club; those private, join for the night "swinger" places where basically anything goes.

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"Can you come here please?" I hear your call from the bedroom, though the question is really not so much a request. Curious, I walk down the hall noting that the light in the bedroom is still off. I stand in the doorway. I can see your silhouette against the streetlight that shines through the window.

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