Your erotic stories

The first thing I ever noticed about Lady B were her legs. They were gorgeous. Her upper body was hidden by the side of a wing-backed chair but stretching out over the side of the chair were her legs, endlessly long and clad in a pair of black seamed nylon stockings, the rounded white thighs above that wide band of dark double webbing bisected by black suspender straps. They were perfection - totally erotic, beautifully shaped, warm soft flesh which made you automatically lick your lips - in anticipation of licking her lips -- upper and lower, outer and inner.

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Candy Struthers was the hottest reporter on television at the moment. Her career had skyrocketed over the past two years with her uncanny ability to sniff out momentous leads, as well as landing extraordinary interviews with infamous celebrities, disgraced politicians, and celebrated lawbreakers. That she was only twenty-four years of age was only part of her aura – she had a law degree, an incredible razor-sharp intellect, and an amazing talent to rise to the top.

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Dawn Garth took a deep breath and pushed open the door. She took the five or six steps down that led through a curtained archway and into the spacious room. Nervously, the blond woman scanned the entire area. Her eyes swept over the bar, where a few stools were occupied, to the couples on the dance floor. She took in the row of tables on the far side as well as the booths scattered against the back wall.

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