Your erotic stories

Emily awoke to the stillness of pre-dawn. She turned her face to the window and noticed the gray light stealing in through the window. Sighing deeply, she tried to keep still and not wake Ralph. Not yet. This was her time and she cherished it. Ralph's snoring cut through to her and she smiled slightly. How many mornings had she quibbled with him over that? And when had it no longer bothered her? In fact, when had she learned to fall asleep to it?

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I sat at the counter, sipping my coffee while being mesmerized by the waitress serving the customers in the restaurant. Having caught the red eye from New York, I arrived rather early and being able to catch a little sleep on the plane, felt refreshed, even with the time difference.

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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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Terrance Madison looked around the crowded ballroom, hoping for a glimpse of her, not seeing her anywhere. For a brief moment, all his old insecurities came flooding back to him. Terrance pushed them back down -- way, way down, because there was no logical reason to have them any more. At 43, he looked great -- better than he had some 25 years earlier.

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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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