Your erotic stories

Laure awoke mid-moan, rolling forwards, pressing herself against the flat warmth of the bed. Eyes still closed, a dull pain registered a fraction of a second after the waking of pleasure. The dryness of the roof of her mouth, the slowness of her tongue, and the thick weight of a movement induced headache contrasted strangely with the spreading heat of her groin and the languidity of her limbs.

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It was 'First Tuesday', the night each month that all the art galleries were open for their new exhibits. I dressed up a little nicer than my normal daily fare. Sure, I clean up well. There was just a hint of cleavage, maybe more than a hint, maybe a lot more. I liked to think my breasts were one of my better parts. I enjoyed them even though there wasn't anyone currently in my life to share them with. Judy had enjoyed them for sure, oh how I loved her lips around my nipples, or my clit, oh yes my clit.

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Author's Note: Another girl/girl love story. Any similarities to one that came before it is intentional/based on what I like. If inclined, the songs referenced throughout are what I listened to while writing it and may help set the mood. The artists, though, bear no responsibility for the sappiness/silliness they inspired.

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With every stitch of her clothing saturated to the skin and every fiber of her being chilled to the bone by the driving and frigid January rain, Donna Mitchell's mind was comprised of only one thought: A stiff drink sure would be wonderful! Though it had been six months since Donna had her last drink of alcohol before joining AA, she could still taste the crisp and clean bite of an icy cold Budweiser sliding down her throat.

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Megan sat across from her sister seething with anger but controlling her emotions so as not to add to the crying hysterics. "Oh Megan! How could he? I thought he loved me!" Crystal sobbed. "I know it took a while for us to have a baby. But now that I am pregnant he decides to fool around?! What am I going to do?"

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I was on a business trip to Pittsburgh. Grad school was in the rear view mirror. With it came another promotion, more money, and more travel. I particularly didn't care for the travel part. It meant time away from Julia, who, God knows, is busy enough with her own work. C.F.O. It still brought a smile to my face when I thought of my wife and her job. Three glorious years -- that's how long we've been married.

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The Cayman Islands were so beautiful this time of year, and the weather was really perfect. Much better than in the heat and humidity of the summer. Or so Christina had been told by the hotel staff, anyway. The weather was great, true...a nice cool breeze came in right off that perfect azure-blue glassy sea, and it blew through her hair as she sat quietly at the outdoor hotel bar.

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Winter was lingering here on the mount, we'd had rain two days earlier and a freak thaw and this morning, the air reeked of snow. I lay in my bed in my little shack, the smell of breakfast coming through the walls on the smoke from the house. For a moment, I simply wanted to go back to sleep, but I had work to do today, traps to check and trails to walk.

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"Happy Fucking Birthday to me!" I thought to myself. If only I knew at that moment just how happy my fifty-second birthday was truly going to be. But as I took my regular afternoon jog through Meyer Park in the northwest suburbs of Houston, Texas; my mind was a swirling mess of self-pity, loneliness and sexual frustration. My husband and I had been divorced for nearly four years, all three of my children were either grown and gone or away visiting their father for the summer and I hadn't gotten a good piece of ass in what seemed like decades.

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I'd inherited a house I had never seen, in a land I had never been to, from a relative I had never met. It was fortunate, plus or minus the un was still to be seen. The house stood solitary, proud and ram shackled, near the edge of the sheer, steep cliffs. No it didn't look foreboding; however it didn't look welcoming either. This was to be my new home?

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