Your erotic stories

Tiffany Dawson stepped into the therapist's office of a walk-in clinic on a rainy Monday afternoon after work. She'd made sure her son Michael knew dinner was wanting for him in the oven and that'd she'd be home by six o' clock. Tiffany was a tiny woman, just over five feet tall, but she had a curvy build. Men and women alike often complimented her on her generous breasts, slender midsection and thick thighs. Tiffany's long, dark hair was pulled up into a high ponytail. A few tendrils had escaped and they gently caressed her smooth shoulders.

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Average, that's pretty much how I saw myself. Brown hair, brown eyes, busty for sure, but could stand to either lose 20 pounds or grow 4 inches. Nothing particularly remarkable about me but what I lack in the supermodel, standard cutesy looks department, I probably make up for in personality. Great. Just how every woman wants to be described: "she's not really pretty, but she's got a great personality!" Whatever.

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Divorce didn't figure to be a matter of any particular concern to Josie. Both she and her husband had done well in their careers. If need be she could live well on her own salary plus royalties, but she didn't need to. Rod had been so anxious to shed his middle-aged wife in order to marry the girl barely older than their daughter he agreed to give Josie whatever her lawyer asked.

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ONE Randi surveyed the large hotel suite as the bellboy took care of her luggage. The room offered two plush queen beds and a large front living area with two leather couches, a wet-bar with a marble top and a gas fireplace. She tipped the belloy handsomely even though she caught him openly leeering at her on numerous occasions. Although in her late forties with two children in school, Randi Boehmon could still turn heads. A petite woman with long blonde hair and piercing blue eyes set above high cheekbones, she was oftentimes told that she resembled Kelly Ripa.

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I thought I could feel the individual rays of sun on my chest, heating my skin and hopefully contributing to the tan I was working on that summer. Even through my eyelids the Greek sun shone a bright white. Sweat dripped down my temples. While I'd been at the beach for an hour and a half already, I'd only been tanning for 20 of those minutes, and I knew I had maybe 5 more, hopefully 10, before I had to jump in the Mediterranean to cool off.

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All characters depicted are 18 years of age or above. The author does not encourage or condone the activities described within. * Landon didn't exactly know what he expected prom night to be, but sitting in his gangly, pimple-faced friend Mark's den watching a porn film about naughty cheerleaders definitely wasn't what he had hoped for or envisioned.

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Part One: Backstory There are many up-sides to growing up without a dad, but dealing with your mom is not one of them.... To say that my mom loved my dad would be the understatement of the century. They were married just days after they turned eighteen and actually walked down the aisle together at high school graduation. No one had ever seen a couple so in love.

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I met Brian Carmichael in early July. I remember this because it was almost a week after my fifth birthday. I was in the driveway of our yard, playing with a Tonka dump truck and bulldozer that my Uncle Jake had bought me for my birthday. I looked up and saw a small black dog (a Labrador retriever, I later found out) run across our lawn. The dog wandered over to me, his tongue hanging out and his tail wagging.

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Carly Adams walked her two children to the end of the cul-de-sac to catch the school bus. Her two young daughters, aged 10 and 12, had the good fortune of inheriting their mother's striking good looks. Having recently turned 37, the slim and sexy soccer mom was constantly mistaken for a much younger woman. Very petite, barely topping 5 feet tall, her jet black hair was styled in a classic concaved bob cut, parted on the side, long side bangs flowing down to curl erotically just under her jaw line.

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Alexis opened the door in little more than a sheer, silk robe, her full breasts peeking out of the loosely tied bodice. The rotund maintenance man seemed not to notice the tight cleavage peeking up at him, milky skin sneaking out from behind the pale silk. Alexis pouted to herself as she turned, leaving him in the open door. "Shut the door behind you. The man alarm console is by the back door, a secondary one in the master bedroom."

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