Your erotic stories

The small sign hanging in the window of the entryway was innocuous enough. "Oriental Massage" it read simply. If one wasn't paying attention as they drove by, they'd likely miss it, and mistake it for a plain, white house with an odd location. It's not every day that you see a house in the middle of an otherwise commercial/industrial area. But I was observant, and had seen the sign driving to and from work many times. It always piqued my curiosity.

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I'm a femme lesbian who works for an investment-banking firm in Chicago. In my line of work it is hard to meet women like myself. After my girlfriend and I broke up for the last time, I became very lonely and bored. I was 36 years old and single for the first time in a long time. At first I thought that I would love my freedom, but this euphoria didn't last very long.

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There's a faded childhood scar on her jaw. It shows in sharper relief in the flickering candlelight. She walks to me, letting her cream chemise spill to the carpet. The beauty mark on the inside of her thigh winks at me as she crosses the room. I had stripped and laid down on our bed earlier, as soon as I saw the lit candles and massage oils on the nightstand.

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It had been a long day and I was very, very tired. As soon as I got back to my room I flopped down backwards on the bed and closed my eyes and just lay there. My feet were aching, my back was aching and I had the beginning of a headache. I felt hot and dirty and my whole body was uncomfortable, as if it had been squeezed inside my dress all day.

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It had been several weeks since that fateful day when Laura and Leann had kissed. Well, not just a kiss. It was quite a sensuous kiss. And not only that, Leann had taken Laura's hand under her bra... directly on her breast! This was the first time either of them had any type of 'contact' with another female, the only problem was that it was in the locker room of the fitness center where they were both members!

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Karen was setting in her car in the parking lot next door to he massage parlor. Her best friend had told her about it a month ago, right after she had discovered it. Her friend Sandy was thirty-five and newly divorced like herself. "You have to try this place. That's all I'm saying." And try as she might, that was all Sandy would tell her but she did ask if Karen had made an appointment every time they were together or talked on the phone, which was nearly every day.

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