Your erotic stories

Adele and Linda had been in chat for almost 3 hours and both were exhausted from the many orgasms they had both had. The subject then turned from sex to everyday things including Linda's forthcoming 30th birthday. Adele asked what plans she had to celebrate it and Linda told her that she wasn't sure as Tony, her husband, was away on a course for the week end that her birthday fell on so she was expecting to spend it quietly indoors.

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Ellen and I have been so busy raising our children and meeting our responsibilities that we somehow managed to avoid spending time together for about ten years. We grew distant, but still loved each other. In fact, I have always lusted after my wife. When we were dating, Ellen had a wild side. We made love in cars, on beaches, and in the woods; where a hiker once caught us. I remember it well because Ellen was on top of me and just told the guy to move along as if he had found us picnicking.

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Saturday night, and you are goin' out! Mothers of Boston hide your sons. Your husband, Steve, is out of town for another conference - this is ten weeks in a row - and your best friend Joanne wants to take you to a local club. She says it's where she goes when she wants to let loose, play a little pool, maybe flirt a bit. (and we KNOW how you like to flirt!) You're wearing your new red short wraparound skit and a white silk blouse, and you look at yourself in the mirror.

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She knew what they were up to. She'd seen them watching her from across the room. They were in the booth furthest away from where she was seated at the bar. She had noticed the girl first, a young woman with short blond curls, very attractive. Next to the girl was a guy, somewhere in his mid twenties or so, with brown hair nearly shaved to his scalp.

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My 19 year-old girlfriend, Kerry, and I had developed the wonderful habit of getting au naturel in the high dunes of a local public beach during a summer home from college. Whilst we were working at our town's holiday camp – a central complex of bars and restaurants surrounded by rental caravans, chalets and mobile homes – we had an encounter in the dunes with two of a girls' netball team who were staying at our camp and playing in a nearby tournament. I wrote of our first encounter last month – see 'The Netball Girls' (Exhibitionist&voy)

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She was a bitch, everything about her said that she was a spoilt little princess, and the strange thing was that she got away with it. When she was with her friends, all sitting in the booth laughing at her, to me feeble, jokes she was the life of the party, a good friend to both male and female alike, but I knew different.

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Poor Theresa, just divorced, cute and sweet. I had to take pity on her, but not in a pitiful way. I suppose I guessed that her slightly meek nature was by choice rather than nature, as if she chose to be that way because she could make something of it. She was quite short, but she had this amazing smile that made her look ten feet tall – maybe other people didn't notice it, but I did.

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I had just started working for a small little publishing firm. Being a part-time writer myself, it was enjoyable work reading other writers manuscripts, all hopeful of getting their works printed in book form. It was a relatively small office too, something else that I quite liked as it was a fairly laid back and comfortable atmosphere. My job was basically to read the manuscripts, critique them and then pass on my recommendations to Larry Somers my boss, or on to his wife Christine who partnered the business with him.

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Strev and Paul had been friends many years dating back to their school days. Strev was a nick name he'd inherited when he was a child by his school friends; it was shortened from Strevonovich, his given family name inherited from his European roots. Living close to each other, the two boys went through school together and remained friends after entering the workforce. At the age of nineteen, a restless Strev headed overseas and travelled through Europe for a few years before settling down at a Kibbutz in Israel for a while.

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It begins with a look I suppose, a nod of the head, a turn towards the stairs, towards an unseen room, and in a moment I know I'll be following them to bed, though I'll wait a few minutes while they gather their things, make arrangements, have the final powwow, but I'll follow soon enough, up those stairs and down the hall, I'll knock gently, politely, on the door, can I come in,

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