Your erotic stories

Jennifer sat in the coffee house, waiting. Her hands kept touching the cup in front of her or her hair - reflexively adjusting it, stealing glances at herself in the floor to ceiling window by her table. Men walked by with furtive glances. This was new. She got her share of attention – early thirties, slim, pale blue eyes, and shoulder length auburn hair just like she wore in her early twenties.

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Alyssa braced herself for the effort, and then stood up. She cradled her swollen tummy — and the life growing within — taking a moment to rest before heading to the door of her office. She pushed an errant lock of dark brunette hair away from her eyes and gathered up her purse. "Why didn't you wait for me to help you up?" Sarah asked. Her dark-haired assistant wore a scowl as she stood in the doorway with her hands on her hips.

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You sit in your apartment. You can hear the rain driving against the walls. The phone is on the coffee table, laying there restlessly. Beside it, a goblet half-full of whatever the bottle next to it used to contain. You stand up, stretch, and pace back and forth across the room. You're still thinking of the last thing your lover had said before she hung up and got on the plane. It was so common yet such a mystery.

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To my readers, please feel free to leave feedback for me so that I know that you liked my stories, what you would like to see, and perhaps maybe suggest one, or perhaps dedicate one to one of you. If you'd like to read it over and over again, favorite it and come back to enjoy it like an old friend. I look forward to hearing from you...K'Anne

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I got a call from Rachel and she was upset, her and Adam had gotten into a huge fight, she had tried to get a hold of Randy and couldn't, so she called me. She had had enough. She couldn't take it anymore. She wanted to come out here for a while to get away from all of it. She had no where else to go, and needed out. The problems was, was that she didn't have the money to come out here.

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I'm 32 years old. My divorce was finalized about six months ago (no children). I consider myself to be good looking man, am in good shape, have a good high paying job, and somehow managed to keep my large house in the divorce. Prior to getting married, I had had sex with two women. My wife and I had a decent enough sex life before things fell apart, though certainly nothing interesting enough to write about.

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Imagine a mental hospital - not the realistic environment, more like what you see in movies like "One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest." There was a large room where the inmates could gather. The nurse's station was next to it. There was a wire fence over the window, so the nurse was protected, but could see and hear what went on. Next to her station was a wire gate, locked.

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Brooke was a wild child and she grew up to be a wild woman. Brooke was a blonde haired green eyed beauty. She had grown up with money and had been spoiled rotten. She had rebelled and done drugs, got tattoos and multiple piercings much to her parents' dismay. She loved to experiment sexually and if she enjoyed the experience she would try it on friends and lovers. Brooke had a body that both men and women enjoyed. She worked out regularly to keep her body tight and fit. She had a sweet ass and an ample bosom.

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I was standing in the airport waiting for my best friend. I hadn't seen her in about 5 years. Both of our jobs were demanding, and it took up most of out free time. But recently, we both got jobs that allowed us to work from home, and making better money. With these jobs, we could work from anywhere. So there I am, standing in the airport, watching for her.

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I don't think I will ever forget that weekend I spent at Meg's. It was the beginning of summer, and I had a couple of days to kill in the city before flying back home. Meg had decided to stay and work for the duration of the summer at the museum, and so she'd rented this small one bedroom apartment downtown. It was the coziest little place you ever saw, and we both had a grand old time decorating it;

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