Your erotic stories

You are indeed my favorite fantasy, you are the vision I have when my skin becomes electric and my fires within churn and swell. You make my chest heavy and my mouth water. The way you look when your in your element that occasional glance and grin in my direction. The things I want to do to you, the desires I have.

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It started out as just another Saturday night – me, Terry, Jezza and a few other lads going out into Luton for a few beers and a bit of fun. Then Terry mentioned some gay celebrity he'd seen mincing about on TV before he came out, and we were into the usual shared rant about how queers were taking over, and soon it'd be compulsory to take it up the arse.

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One of my father's crudest friends had a saying that he reserved for men he thought were losers with the women. He would say, "That guy couldn't get laid in a whore house with a pocket full of hundred dollar bills." I never thought about that much; I figured I was doing alright with the ladies until I turned forty. Then it dawned on me, I had never had one that truly cared about me. Through my blue collar hard-working, long-hour days, I had a long string who abused my trust, used me and made me pay too much for the attention I got from them.

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I. BACKGROUND Traci was a tall slender blonde who had been my Mom's roommate in college. They'd stayed in touch and I kinda knew her from her short visits. She was apparently rather wealthy and traveled a lot. I'd never understood exactly what she did but it was somehow related to the classical music and jazz business.

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I am Anna, a 24-year-old suburban librarian. I have blue eyes and one of those innocent faces, with an easy smile. My hair is long and red; I usually curl and then pile it up for a professional look at work. The rest of the time I love to feel it on my back and shoulders. I have to dress conservatively for the job, low heels naturally, with a skirt and silk blouse -- nothing too showy.

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"You're kidding? Right?" my ex-husband Alan asked incredulously. "Now, why would I kid about that?" I returned the question with annoyance. Alan was temporarily speechless and I could hear him fumbling for the right words. "I'm telling you because when you pick up Alana, Valerie might be there and I want you to be cordial," I stated firmly.

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It had been months since that afternoon at LeAnn's. Neither had spoken about it and they had carried on as if nothing had ever happened. LeAnn had only been practicing her newly learned massage techniques... hadn't she? The activities had got them both more than a little aroused. Maybe LeAnn had been a little too intimate. Maybe Laura had overreacted to the attention. Maybe.

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"She didn't want to say anything, but when you fall for someone, it doesn't really take a lot of work. You don't have much choice in the matter. It sort of just hits and then you know." We've all seen commercials where there's that random thing - that once in a lifetime blink of a moment.

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I have to confess that I was surprised when I heard the doorbell ring about mid-morning Sunday. Who would come to visit me that early and especially on a Sunday? I thought that maybe, just maybe, it was my brother and his wife on their way back from church. We lived pretty close to each other, so if he needed to borrow a tool or something he might stop by.

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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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