Your erotic stories

Dave was sweating. The sun was warm but not uncomfortably so - it felt considerably milder than the sun back in Orange - but dragging the bag along the street probably hadn't been the best idea. It was well-suited to the task but the route he had decided to take to the hostel he was booked into was rather longer in person than it had seemed on paper. As he trundled down 33rd Avenue, he espied some shady greenery which turned out to be a park.

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The sun shone brightly in the sky against the backdrop of the mountains and a few birds could be seen flying about. The view could make anyone looking at it breathe a deep sigh of contentment, but not the woman standing in front of her office window. In fact, the sigh that she gave was one of sadness - not the deep heart-wrenching kind she had sighed six months before, but sad just the same.

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"First the tide rushes in, plants a kiss on the shore . . ." Matt often started a set with something quiet and slow, like "Ebb Tide," when there was a convention or two in the hotel, like there was today—electricians and bankers. What a combination. Something quiet tended to settle and quiet them down to the point that he could stand it.

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The car drove along the tree-lined lane to a house overlooking a lake. It was a large house with several levels of decks at the rear. "It's a beautiful house, Tiff," Ashley said, taking in the beautiful flowers that were expertly laid out in the lavish gardens. "Yes, it is. Mike is a very successful lawyer here. He has been my client for about two years now," Tiffany, the taller blonde answered.

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My name is Nicholas Ichabous Crane Evanston. I'll spare you the long drawn out story of how I got that ridiculous name. The short version is that my dad saddled me with that long name so I would never forget the acronym, and always be NICE to people. Sometimes big stories have small beginnings, my story started at a CVS Pharmacy in a small town in North Carolina. I was in town to oversee a six month construction job and was having a pretty crappy day, so I dropped in for a sugar fix at the pharmacy near the work site.

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I walked into the pub through the side door. It was just how I remembered it. The sun shone through the front glass doors, to splay rays across the dusty wooden floorboards. My friends were already waiting for me at a table. They'd chosen a great spot, right next to the window, we could feel the warm winter sun through the window panes, yet still all fit comfortably around one table. I hugged most of my friends tight – I had not seen some of them for 8 months!

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Jessica was new to the city. She was a fresh faced 24 year old from the suburbs who recently moved to San Francisco to attend law school. It was the first time in her life that she lived on her own. Being away from her family was hard. None of her friends were there with her, and she didn't know anybody at her new school.

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It was the middle of the semester and since I didn't have very much work due, I decided to take a night off and go to a show that included a few of the singing groups on campus. I was meeting my friend Jessica there, but she always ran late, so I had to wait in the lounge for a while for her. I was pretty bored sitting by myself, and just watched people walking in and out of the lounge and into the auditorium. I didn't really give anyone a second look, I was just people-watching in general. Until this one girl walked in.

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"Well," Tom sighed, "what other romantic songs do we have for Valentine's Day? More Dean Martin?" The little piano bar was more crowded than on some nights. It had been a shore day, St. Martin. No big production show tonight, just one of those juggling comedians that seem to find their way on to cruise ships. Washed up, like him, flotsam bobbing against the shoreline, but not quite, not quite stranded yet.

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"Grace arrived late last night. Poor thing was tired after the red eye flight from Toronto," Mia said taking a seat at the breakfast table. At those words, James dropped the muffin he was about to eat into his coffee mug. The resulting splash sprinkled not only on the pale blue damask table cloth, but his shirt as well. Trying to cover up his flub, he responded to his sister's comment.

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