Your erotic stories

I imagine you coming home tonight, surprised how all your snow chores are done. You walk into the house and it's warm, there's a light in the kitchen, and you enter, curious about what you'll find. As you enter I turn around and smile. I've been hard at work at the stove, cooking our diner. You can tell that a soup is bubbling away, perfect for this cold winter night.

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Standing in front of the large, automated doors of the college library, Jacob Michaels, 23, released a heavy sigh. His mind was still in a whirl, trying to comprehend exactly why he was here. He worked at the college library as a student aide on regular school days, but this was his Spring Break! School was closed and so was the library. But he was forced to be here; told at the last minute that he had to work this week, the week of his only vacation for months to come, with one of the librarians to help make the shelves orderly and nice for the returning students.

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Our small kitchen was a bustle of activity, my own rushed, anxious movements contrasting with Hanna's relaxed calm. She sat down at the small breakfast bar in her fluffy white robe and began to delicately segment her pink grapefruit, a cup of tea gently steaming beside her. As usual however I was running late, standing with a bowl of cornflakes in one hand and a spoon in the other, forcing mouthful after mouthful hurriedly down, all the while trying to avoid milky splashes on my shirt.

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I wasn't really all about the party. I knew maybe four people there, and while it was a pretty chill affair, I couldn't help but feel like I wanted to be at home doing something else. Of course I was looking for the good looking girls- and there were a few- most of whom either had boyfriends or just wouldn't be interested in me. When that happens, when I can see there's no connection there, a woman's attractiveness becomes abstract real fast, like art on the wall; pretty, but you don't want to fuck it.

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