Your erotic stories

I'd know Cathy since College where she had dated my best friend at the time for a couple of years. For some reason we'd never gotten on very well, I think possibly because she caught me starring at her once or twice when we'd all been hanging out at the beach. To be honest I didn't really care if we got on, I was never quite sure why Simon liked her so much as she was a bit full of herself.

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Sophie and Kate were always just... my friends. I had known them since my early teenage days and so I had never really had a lustful drive towards them. While with so many other girls, sex had been on the agenda pretty early and I was open about my life to them, Sophie and Kate seemed to never invoke those conversations.

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After a long week at work, I think I was just as happy not to have a date: changing into a t-shirt and sweatpants, ordering a pizza, opening a beer and watching the ballgame on tv sounded like a pretty good plan. Then in the top of the eighth inning, I heard a loud crash from the apartment next door.

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This is my first submission and I'm not sure where this is going. It's a project I've been working on when it pleases me. I finally decided to submit it as I find I write more often if there are other people who want me to continue a story. This is also my first erotic story, though I have yet to get to that part. Any comments on my writing, good or bad, would be wonderful to hear as I love getting feed-back.

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Kurt was nervous. She was meant to be there in fifteen minutes, it was quarter to six now and the movie started at six-thirty. She had told him she would be round to pick him up, it would just be easier that way. He had put on his favourite shirt; Navy blue and plain, he wore it everywhere he went and didn't feel the need to dress up tonight. He was also wearing his oldest pair of jeans, held up by a belt he had just gotten the week before, Kurt despised shopping and even more so when it was for pants.

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We had known each other for a couple of years, and I had admired her taut little body from across the room on many occasions. She was the wife of a college friend, and therefore off-limits. But she was still a hottie, and the subject of much fantasy and the topic of much lewd banter between males. She had always been friendly, even flirty on occasion. I knew of her husband's wayward ventures with other women, wondering why he would do such a thing with Dana at home.

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"I have never...had a one night stand." I lifted my glass and took a drink. Dan and Serena did likewise, smiling as they drank from their large mugs while Erin sat back and watched with a smug expression. "Okay," Dan said, wiping his mouth as he set his beer back down on the table. "My turn." We all turned our attention towards him as he stroked his chin as if trying to think of something to say.

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"Hey, I'm going to go over to Ryan's house, Luke has something for me I guess," I told my boyfriend, Kyle, as I was gathering up my purse and keys to my car. "Luke?" Kyle put on a disgusted face. I didn't blame him. Luke was my ex. We'd only gone out a week, so I didn't really count him as being an "ex-boyfriend", just an "ex". I know, I'm weird. I sighed and tried to smile at Kyle. "Yeah. I guess. I'll be back in hopefully under a half hour. Unless Ryan's there and then I might stay a bit longer."

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Going to try for a long chapter after this one. The events I've written for now aren't really conducive to length without getting overly tedious. Thanks to those people who submitted comments. I really appreciate the input. Lastly, I've been told my transition between perspectives could use a little work, so any tips or suggestions there would be phenomenal.

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Feeling very nervous as she stood backstage with the others, Diana Watson had so many butterflies in her stomach by then that she was deathly afraid that she might throw up ay any moment. Uncomfortably squeezed into her very best dress - one that she had not worn for many years, since before a sedentary life added more than a few extra pounds to her once slender figure - Diana had to work hard to resist the impulse to run a restive hand through the hair she'd had professionally coiffed at the beauty parlor earlier that day.

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