Your erotic stories

The sound of moaning greeted us as we pushed through the door into the darkened cinema. The actress on the big screen was getting fucked hard, and doing a good job of sounding as if she was loving it. In the dim light from the screen we could see that the matinée had attracted a few people to this porn cinema. Maybe fifteen or twenty.

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Chloe hated having to ride the trains to and from work. Her car was smashed into by some arsehole, while it was parked out the front of her friends place two weekends ago. So until she could save up some money for the repairs, trains and buses were her only option. She was reading a good book to pass the time, but it couldn't block out her horrible surroundings. The trains were always the fucking same. Dirty and vandalised, with seedy looking passengers, some asleep on the seats.

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To say that a month ago I was, on the face of it, prim and proper would be an understatement. Tim and I (Jane), met in our first year at high school and were inseparable from that time on and I guess it was always assumed by ourselves and our families that we would get married. Tim was everything I could have ever wanted - the proverbial tall, dark and handsome athletic sort, not to mention incredibly wealthy, once he had established himself in the family law firm which his grandfather had founded.

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Chapter I Helen spent three Friday evenings in a elegant little lounge on the east side of town. She wanted to pickup men, she was horny, she craved sex, and this seemed like the most likely place to find horny males. The slightly past middle aged widow was a good looking woman, spending a number of days at the gym, another good place to find males. She was successful the previous Friday, but the guy climaxed, rolled over, fell asleep, and Helen had to call a cab to get back to the bar to retrieve her car.

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Suzanne Waters woke up just in time to see Kayla Lane exiting the motel room. Seeing the pretty 18-year-old dressed in a short black skirt and a tight fitting red tee-shirt affirmed Suzanne's notion that Kayla wasn't simply making a run to the vending machines, especially since Kayla had been in a pair of pajamas when Suzanne went to bed less than an hour ago. Suzanne jumped out of bed and grabbed the pair of jeans draped over the chair in the corner and quickly sliding them up her long, sexy, legs.

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"Come on. Tell me!" "Nooo," April whined as she walked past me, leafing through the plastic wrapped costumes hanging from the wall. "And stop asking me." "Fine," I conceded, turning back and selecting a skimpy school girl outfit from a nearby rack. "How about this one?" "Ummm," she said, eyeing my chosen costume with sceptical reluctance. "That's a little too slutty."

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There wasn't an adult in the land that didn't know what her family did. There wasn't a tabloid editor on Fleet Street that hadn't paid out hard cash for sex tapes containing her or her family. They were notorious; famous almost. Salacious details of the exploits became Internet folklore, the stuff of legend.

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When they started building the apartment building next door it was more an annoyance than anything else. It would take almost a year for them to complete the building after razing the smaller brownstones that now occupied the space. We overlooked four of the smaller buildings and their backyards. Not the most amazing view, but it was wide open to the skies. Our apartment was on the 11th floor.

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I'd had a couple of busy weeks at work and had just returned from a weekend getaway with my family. I'd looked with a bit of envy at my brother and his little family and got annoyed with my parents who'd made none too subtle comments on my single status at 34. To me, the more embarrassing fact was that I'd not even been out on a date for years. How sad was that?

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My friends always told me that my mom was a Milf. When I was younger, I used to feel embarrassed by this and I got into fights, even lost some friends. Over the years, I changed my mind, especially when my mom got divorced for the second time, and I was stuck taking care of my family like the man of the house. Playing the role of dad to two sisters, I began to see what my friends were seeing in my mother. I didn't tell her that, of course, and so I missed my chance for anything once she got remarried.

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