Your erotic stories

The packed city club is jumping, the sound of drum and bass pulsates around me, colourful lights flash rhythmically and your eyes follow me as I stalk seductively up to the fully stocked bar. My sequinned skirt glitters as my hips move in time to the dirty baseline, the semi-sheer black body I'm wearing is designed to allow the imagination to wander and my long legs are emphasised by slender stilettos and opaque, black, lace topped stockings.

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The following morning was almost a replay of the one before. I woke fairly early and drove over to Mom's hotel, letting myself into her room with the spare key, again. The drapes were not drawn shut as they had been yesterday, but stood open allowing the faint light of dawn to softly light the room.

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I rested my neck on the edge of the bathtub and stretched my limbs, luxuriating in the warmth of the foamy water. I surveyed the unfamiliar opulence of my surroundings and sighed with satisfaction. I had learnt on my arrival at the resort hotel in Maui where I was to stay that my confirmed reservation had been deleted by a mysterious glitch in their system and that no rooms were available. Either my panic stricken face or more probably the fact that I am a claims agent for a major marine insurance company persuaded the management to get rid of the problem by upgrading me to a beach side cottage.

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This story has been buried deep inside of me for a long time. I remember all of it very well, almost like it was last week. I've reminisced and re-lived it all many times over the years. Much of it is quite fun to remember. Some of it is bittersweet. Some of it is painful still. When I was out of college and in my early twenties I got a job selling radio advertising in a suburban/rural area, and although new to the region, I became successful in a fairly short time.

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I was sitting backwards on one of the chairs in my tenant's kitchen, watching him cover an easel with bold strokes of varying shades of green. Sean had moved into the basement suite in late August, and we'd hit it off right away. He was a nice boy, 22 years old, a couple years older than my own son, who was also away at university.

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INTRODUCTION Amy Snyder was thrilled when she learned from the head mistress that her uncle would be picking her up on Friday afternoon. Her uncle Richard had arranged with the school to let Amy spend the weekend with him and his employer William Russell at Mr. Russell's estate. Best of all was that Amy was allowed to bring her roommate Beth Hopper along for the weekend. Richard told Amy about the estate and the large swimming pool that was there.

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It was the first time in my life I was living together with somebody else. It was thrilling. I remember the first time we went together to the supermarket. I was used to buy just a few things and spend some metal coins just not to use the Credit Card... I left there half of my monthly pay! We bought an unbelievable amount of stuff to start our household, most of which I would never think of.

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Hi, my name's Ronni Brady, and I'm a feature writer with New York Eye, the internationally renowned humorous news and current affairs magazine. I'm known for my acerbic wit and laconic style. You may have heard of me – I also have a regular newspaper column that's syndicated across the country, and I've been a regular guest on shows like Letterman and the Late Late Show over the years.

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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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Art had completed his training as a masseuse and he was now working part time at a salon near the college. He was in his junior year at the university and he was doing very well in school with a cumulative 3.6 GPA. Art would graduate in a year with a degree in business and he hoped to be accepted to graduate school. Art was an impressive young man of 21 years and he had dated many girls in college.

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