Your erotic stories

The thumping bass sound announced the approach of Miguel's car long before Damon saw it come around the corner and pull up to the side of the basketball court. Damon took one last shot, banking the ball off the backboard and through the hoop before jogging over to the high chain link fence surrounding the court where Miguel's car sat on the other side. The passengers side window of Miguel's Camry slid down and Luke leaned out.

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I dashed for the phone, hoping to answer it before the voicemail picked up. "Hello," I said, breathing hard. "Ken, it's Sam Clemens." No, not that Sam Clemens. Sam is Samantha Clemens. She and her husband Dave live about two miles from me on Huckleberry Hill Road. We have the only houses for miles, so we've become pretty good neighbors. Dave is a realtor in town. He has done very well financially selling commercial real estate, and it shows.

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As I drove home, I couldn't believe how incredibly frustrated I was -- sexually, that is. I hadn't had sex for months -- with a man, at least. I'd had plenty with little vibrator, but that's just not the same. My husband and I were estranged, probably heading for divorce, and my prospects for the future (sexually) were uncertain. I'd had a dinner meeting that evening with clients that was a last minute thing and I'd been lucky enough to get my regular baby sitter, Kara, on such short notice.

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Betty awakened to the sound of water running in her bathroom. It took her a moment to remember that she hadn't fallen asleep alone. Bill had come to see her that morning. She was laying on her side, facing away from the bathroom door. Looking out the window, she could see, across the Intracoastal Waterway, the cement tile roofs of Ft. Lauderdale as it stretched all the way to the Everglades.

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Chapter One: New York City to Albany. The Port Authority Bus Terminal in New York City, circa 1971, was a very cold and sinister place to hang around, and I made it a point to spend as little time as possible there while waiting for my bus. I was 18 years old and alone, and while I had grown familiar enough with the city to navigate to and from my Aunt Elle's home in Queens, once I entered that dank and dismal bus terminal, I kept to myself as much as possible, and held onto my gym bag very tightly.

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It was a beautiful little lake in Lower Michigan, not far from the Indiana border. It was settled in amongst a few rolling hills roughly twenty minutes from anywhere. Fifteen houses occupied two-thirds of its shoreline, with the other third being little more than marsh land. Of the houses, five were occupied by year round residents; with the remainder being vacation homes and cottages of various shapes and sizes.

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1. The love of my life. The first moment I saw her, I knew I wanted to marry her. She was a tall slender woman with flaming red hair who looked like a movie star to me. I watched every move she made all day, every day, and her beauty was unmatched by any woman I had ever seen. She had perfect white teeth that sparkled when she smiled, and that face would light up the room at those times. Her face, neck and arms were covered with freckles, and I wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of my life counting them.

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During his senior year of high school Jeremy Richards decided he was going to work on changing his life, he had always gotten good grades in school and was always considered to be well behaved. He never tried playing sports and he was always thirty pounds overweight so this year he decided he was going to play sports along with his academics. In the fall he played soccer and he did make the team but sat the bench most of the year getting to play in the last game for a few minutes.

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Chapter One: My best friend's mother. "I swear Robbie, if you tell anybody about what I'm going to show you, I'll fucking kill you," Ted warned me, and judging my the veins bulging in his neck and the crimson color of his face, he probably meant it. The madman look was something that Ted had inherited from his father, a hothead who had abandoned ship many years ago, leaving Ted and his mother to fend for themselves while he went to make other people's lives miserable, I assumed.

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"It's time, Annie," I told her. "We can't wait a second longer, because this baby won't." "But Dom," she answered. "The hospital is so far away, if the contractions slow down again, we'll be up there for nothing, and that snowstorm is coming. We could be stuck up there." "Yes!" I snapped. "This is a nasty storm, suppose we stay put, it hits, and then the baby comes. We'll be stuck here, 80 miles from help. It's time!"

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