Your erotic stories

I walked into the hotel café , as usually late, as usually slightly flustered from all the things that I managed to not do to get here in time, but also with a sense of more serious trepidation mixed with excitement gnawing at my throat. Not every day after all one meets a person with whom one shared the wildest of sexual fantasies.

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She couldn't believe this was happening. Her heart was beating hard and fast. She could feel the pulse in her throat and hear the rapid thrum of it in her ears. She felt warm and flushed, even though she was completely naked. The surface she lay on was soft and molded comfortably under her. The fur tickled gently along the edges of her skin. She was acutely aware of the kiss of it against the lips of her freshly shaven labia.

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She was 5'5" in sneakers and had legs for miles. Creamy white skin dotted with freckles stretched over a small frame and topped with flaming red hair, she was every boy's wet dream. And on Fridays, when she wore that cheerleader's uniform, she was half the girls' wet dream, too.

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It was a full week before Bethany heard again from Mrs Boxwell. All during the week at school she had felt anxiety, almost heartsickness, at what she had done last Saturday night. A million questions went through her mind. Mainly, it was: What's wrong with me? But then as she thought about her cute friend Lissy on her knees doing what she was doing, how shocking it was, she could not help but get excited. Late in her bed at night she masturbated. Oh, it was wrong, but she couldn't stop herself.

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A flip of a switch filled the yard with colored lights. Regina smiled while watching the spruce trees lining the sidewalk appear to spin. She didn't care that chasing lights were out of style — she liked them. Curtain lights, icicle lights, LEDs... The trend changed every year anyway. Turning around, she sighed. It was hard to get into the spirit in an empty house. The loss of her dad five years earlier had started it, followed by her mother the following year, and then the divorce.

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The heat was almost unbearable in South Georgia last July, when my wife and I were there for her brother's wedding. The temperature was in the mid nineties by lunch time, and I was wishing she hadn't volunteered us to be the child care while all the other females in the family went to a bride's lunch. Apparently, my wife, Paige, would rather entertain 6 kids than go to a stuffy lunch at the country club.

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I had always hated surprises. They made me anxious. I overthink them. He told me he had a surprise for me when I got home from work. I worried about it for hours, wondering what it could be. I thought about things I had asked for recently, everything I could possibly imagine. He hadn't given me any clues as to what it was, so I guess I'd just have to wait. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, I left work and started the long drive home. It was torture. Twenty miles of wondering.

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This was so long ago that most of you readers out there were not even born yet. It was at a major mid-western university. I was what they called then a work-study student. That meant that in order to pay my way through school I had to work twenty hours a week in one of the university's departments. I had been assigned to the library. Our library had over five million volumes at that time, long before computers and online research.

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I had been teaching university classes for about three years. I was lucky to be looking for the job at just the right time, it wouldn't have nearly so easy if not for issues among the faculty at the time. I never found out all the details except that the administration had to hire a decent sized group of teachers the year I started. Not only did it get me a job, but it also meant that as a younger woman I didn't stand out quite as much against the older men who still made up the majority of the staff.

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The chill October breeze sent a shiver through my body as I closed the front door of my parents' house who I had been visiting that evening. As I locked the mortice, I heard a sound to my left. I looked round and, in the frame of light created by the open front door of the neighbouring house, I saw, over the dividing fence, my 'childhood sweetheart' struggling to manoeuvre a large fridge/freezer over the precipice of the doorstep.

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