Your erotic stories

Coming out of the bathroom, hair still wet from my shower, I stop before the bed. It's all there. He's laid it all out for me, and the tension that I had been feeling all afternoon ratchets up another notch. "Oh, god, oh god," I mutter, not really aware of what I'm saying.

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It was Saturday night and Mike was home alone. He didn't mind because there were absolutely no interruptions as he watched hockey. It was the playoffs and the second game of the night was just coming to an end. He went to the kitchen to get a drink and paused to take a long look at the freezer.

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Jan was bouncing up and down on her boyfriend, Bubba's lap but not in the way you might think. With five of them in the cab of Jake's old pickup, she did not have anywhere else to sit. They were packed in like sardines but that didn't keep them all from bouncing around on the rough dirt road that led into the hay fields.

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Liz threw back the measure of brandy she had just poured in one gulp and felt it burn all the way to her stomach. She paced nervously across the floor as she waited for the taxi to arrive. Checking her reflection for the umpteenth time, she adjusted her hair and clothing needlessly. Oh god, she thought. What am I doing?

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I was standing in the small room, in front of a curtained window. Paul's hot breath on the back of my neck was doing little to dispel the tension that was tying me in knots, even though that's exactly what we were here for. The room was pretty dreary really; just this curtained window and a padded massage table behind us against the wall. Tired paint on the walls, scruffed tiled floor and ceiling, as if men before us had been walking the ceiling and dragged across the floor, which, for all I knew, was exactly what had caused the scruffing.

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The cool air washed over my body as I stepped out of the shower When I looked in the bathroom mirror, I noticed that the cooler air had caused my nipples to harden. I ran my fingers over my nipples and felt a quick jolt of pleasure flow through my body. Was it the cool air, or the excitement I had felt all day, or for that matter all week! Tonight was to my husband Bill's and my first visit to a an off-premise swing club located in a city close to where we lived.

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"What the hell do you mean eight hundred bucks?" I practically yelled into the phone. "It's a fucking water pump!" My mechanic gave me some song and dance about having to pull a load of shit off the engine to get to the broken part. "Fuck, dude," I said. "Where the hell am I getting that kind of money?" He gave me some more song and dance.

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"OK, what the hell is that?" Eileen asked laughing. "That is our Play Chair," the saleswoman said with a smile, coming up behind them. "It tends to get a reaction from everyone that comes in here." 'Here' was an upscale 'erotic boutique' in Boston. Eileen and Tom were in town for a get-away weekend and decided a visit would provide a nice bit of spice to their romantic weekend. Neither had been to the store before and didn't quite know what to expect.

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Julie had just turned eighteen. She was over six feet tall with short, black hair. She had big, brown eyes and perfect, chiseled features. She had beautiful, 36 C-sized breasts and an athletic body with long, brown legs. She was beautiful and she knew it, but she hated the attention her beauty drew. She always wore boyish, baggy jeans with a T-shirt, and she usually covered her short haircut with a baseball cap.

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There were four of them who entered the store close to closing time, all muscled punks decked out in black leather. I owned the small convenience store but found myself behind the counter this evening because my regular night clerk called in sick. The hunkiest of the four came up to the counter and puckered his lips and tossed me an air kiss. He asked me where Jake, my regular evening clerk, was.

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