Your erotic stories

"Hey, could you show me how to Bate Stamp low on the page like you did it last time?" I shoved the file home, then stood from my bent position. I kicked the cabinet door closed and turned to my co-worker. I was surprised to see she had been looking at my ass. More surprising, she took her time raising her eyes to meet mine, lingering on my chest on the way up.

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My name is Jill. This story is about how my best friend Laura and I first discovered the joy that two loving females could give to each other. All through our years at University I had initially admired Laura for her poise and strength and I had a crush on her that I would barely admit to myself, unwilling to admit that I may have lesbian tendencies. One time in our final year it came to a head.

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“What’s the matter, Lizzie?” Sarah’s hands squeezed my shoulders and her hair brushed my cheek as she leaned over to peek at the papers strewn over the desk. “I think this is my 20th hang up in a row tonight,” I complained, rolling my eyes toward the phone. “They finish half this stupid survey and decide it’s too long and hang up.”

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Looking back there were so many turning points in our lives but for me sexuality, and sex in general and its effect on our friendship and the different ways love developed became important in the autumn of the year we turned eighteen. I'm not talking about the "kids fooling about" stuff but the powerful sort that attracts and repels, the sort that drives you and changes your life forever.

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I woke late, from a deep sleep. I was tangled in the sheets of the bed and I was hugging the pillow. At first it was like any morning of my life but then I felt the warm glow radiate through me and recalled that my whole world was now changed.

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I'm lying in bed mid-afternoon daydreaming trying to catch forty winks after a gruelling nightshift, almost deliriously tired but still can't seem to drift off to sleep. I feel wired, buzzed, but I can't quite put my finger on why. I try putting my finger downstairs to relieve some tension but even orgasmic release seems to be just beyond me at the moment. It's just then, with one hand down my panties and one playing with my breast that I hear a knock on the door.

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Prologue It was close to midnight when Sarah Mason awoke in her bedroom from a bad night's sleep. With tears flowing down her cheeks, she sobbed heavily, her breathing erratic and uncontrolled, her facial expressions ridden with angst and pain. A lamp was switched on in the hallway outside and quietly her brother, John Mason standing six feet one, opened the door to her bedroom and made his way inside.

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It hadn't been that long ago at all that their sleep over's were nothing but staying up all night drinking as many Red Bull's as their young bodies could take talking about nothing in particular while listening to whatever new music Naiya had downloaded onto her computer and they chatted with one friend or another on MySpace, AIM or through texts until they simply collapsed from exhaustion.

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Penny sorted through the mail. The usual lot: bills, catalogs, applications for credit cards. She was about to toss it all aside when a smallish envelope with very flowery handwriting caught her attention. She opened it and read: 'You are cordially invited to a Lady of the Night lingerie party at the home of Kimberly Morgan, this Saturday, the twenty-first at one PM.'

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"Ding," the doorbell rang, and Miranda stopped breathing for a moment. "Ding, ding," the doorbell rang, and she grabbed her glass, knocking it back before realizing it was empty. She grabbed the bottle, and it was empty, too. Getting up from the table, she swayed slightly and went to the kitchen sink, getting a glass from the cupboard and filling it from the tap. "Ding, ding," the doorbell called again as she drank quickly.

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