Your erotic stories

He turned her, nuzzling her neck, his breath warm, his mouth even warmer as he kissed her skin. "You want it, don't you?" he murmured in her ear, his hands sliding down over her breasts, her hips and thighs as he rubbed his crotch against her tight ass. She whimpered, her head falling back to rest on his shoulder. "Please..." she whispered, shivering as his warm hands played with the hem on her sundress and her body ached with primal need.

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I washed my bowl out and set it in the sink. Glancing over at the stove, I put the lid back on the pot of Chili and wiped my hands on a towel hanging from the oven. Turning up the glass of iced water, I all but chugged it down to wash the spice from my mouth. I knew I needed to quit eating hot chili. I dreaded the inevitable heartburn I would no doubt experience later.

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The best word to describe Mindi was "effervescent". Oh, it wasn't the only word. "Tall". "Leggy". "Blonde". "Luscious". "Fun". All these and many more described the 19-year old quite well. Yet, despite her great looks and flirty, sexy appearance, it was her personality that drew everyone to her. Most people liked Mindi, she was the kind of girl that didn't have a bad word for anyone. She always seemed to glow with happiness, when Mindi came into the room, almost everyone was happy to see her.

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Just coming out of the shower and looking into the door mirror, I grin a little bit thinking of an earlier conversation I had with my business partners. Half of the morning they were discussing shaving their junk to make them look bigger. I remember being a little annoyed, but then I shrugged it off thinking 'Whatever helps them sleep at night'. But it got me thinking, so I just tried it.

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He died last June in a car crash. My mother was at the wheel and it was because of her that they were both killed. Mom was a real bitch. You know the type, always right and always critical of other people and very demanding and vindictive. Dad always stood up for me and I idolized him. I was his favorite and I really hated the way mom treated him. About once every couple of weeks she would send us on useless errands, and those were the times she would let dad fuck her.

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Jake Hughes, the owner of Blue Sky Horse Farm, sat at his kitchen table sipping coffee as he stared out the window at what could only be described as a gloomy Saturday morning. Overnight rains had left the farm drenched and a heavy fog had set in, obscuring his view of the mountains that encircled the pastures where his horses grazed. The house was quiet and dark and it was times like this that he was most lonely.

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I am an engineer, an entrepreneur and a businessman with considerable experience. By the tail end of the dot.com frenzy, I learned enough about business during that heady time to know that as soon as a small company is profitable, those profits turn into growth and growth turns into interest from large companies wanting to break into certain markets. That interest means they want to buy. The margins for small businesses aren't large in most cases, so people make real money by selling the company before it gets too large.

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It was not a good day as it started out. My fishing partner had canceled out before I left to pick him up. He had an upset stomach. Well, the boat was hooked up behind my truck on it's trailer all loaded and ready to go, even down to bait and two lunches in the cooler. The Hell with it, I would go alone. I drove to the ramp and launched the boat.

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Edward woke up alone. That was normal. Ever since his wife left him he always woke up alone. At least it was Saturday and he didn't have to go into the office. He was also naked. That was not normal. What happened last night, he wondered not yet fully awake. He sat up suddenly as he remembered. Last night he went to The Harbor, one of the newer clubs in town, with the project team from the office to celebrate the completion of their latest game. He swung his legs out of bed and shook his head. Did last night really happen, he thought.

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Santa must love me because I've never had such a young, nubile present in all my life. It was the day before Christmas and the sky hung over my house as black as cast iron. A bitter mix of snow and sleet hissed through the leafless trees in my front yard. A foot and a half of snow covered the ground; not much for some parts of the country but here in Olympia, Washington it was quite a shock. Power was out in parts of town, though not at my house, and the schools and many businesses had been closed for several days.

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