Your erotic stories

I moaned loudly as the phone's ringing refused to stop. I rolled twice toward the sound, tossing blankets to the side as I did, and reached up to grab the phone. "Hmmmm?" I voiced into the receiver. "Ms. Calista Holiday?" a deep voice asked. "Yes," I responded. "This is Aidan Conner. I must regretfully inform you of the death of your great-aunt, Faye Michaels." The man's vaguely familiar accent registered, but his words didn't.

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I had been trying to write a Great American novel for years but had only succeed in writing an episodic tale of a town, an episodic tale of a singer, and a convoluted science fiction story. My agents found online publishers for each but not print publishers. My agents were a lesbian couple that would kindly be described as colorful. I described them as batty.

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Maybe it's a hold over from ten thousand years ago when animals gathered together as fall turned into winter. For what ever reason it has held that the fall is the start of the social season for the human species as well. It was a ritual for me to step out of the shower with only a towel wrapped around my head. Kenny would be there naked on the bed with his strong hard cock in hand. He would say "Wilda you are so fucking sexy.

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Warm air. Wonderful stuff. We stepped of the aeroplane and felt it wash around us as we unwrapped ourselves from our winter coats. A bit too much white skin on show, but we would change that over the next couple of weeks, lying out in the sun, swimming, eating, drinking, living the tropical idyll.

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It's late - we've had a few games of bowling and we're heading back to the car. The bowling alley has just closed, and the car park is empty except for my little Micra and this one, clapped-out car. There's a woman, slim, with long slender legs and short blonde hair, stood with the bonnet up, peering at the engine.

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In case you haven't read any of my other stories, my name is Alicia and I'm eighteen years old. My best friend since fourth grade and lover since December is Shelly. She's five months older than I and a very beautiful girl, if I may say so at the risk of being a little bit prejudiced. We are bisexual, not lesbians, because we have boyfriends, too.

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It was Thursday night, ladies' night at the local Sheraton's hotel bar. This was always the happening place in town because the DJ was the best and everyone in the whole city would go there to hang out, drink, and dance. Well, I called several friends and tried to get them to go out with me, but no one wanted to go for various reasons.

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I always thought that the trouble with my friend Lacey was that she was so gullible. As much as I hate stereotypes Lacey is quite simply one stupid dumb blonde. Imagine this, a tall six foot statuesque girl, with curves in ALL the right places, firm but bouncy tits, a rounded ass that sways not wobbles when she walks, and that wonderful not quite honest tint to her skin.

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It truly was a day to remember. I stepped out onto my pool deck that Saturday afternoon, aiming to bring the water up to the proper level and check the chemical balance. Three neighborhood couples would be at our home that evening to share my locally-famous smoked ribs. I wanted the pool to be crystal clear in case we decided to swim too.

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Winter was here and it was cold and nasty in Chicago. The kind of weather that just makes you want to pretend you're a bear and hibernate. Crawl into the bed under the covers and sleep, with a sign over the bed that says, "Don't wake till Spring". Neither Laura or Tia wanted to brave the weather for another day at work but neither could afford to lose the job or a days pay so they trudged off , through the ice and snow and worst of all Chicago's famous wind.

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