Your erotic stories

I was sitting in my living room that Sunday morning, working on the broken clasp of one of my anklets, my favorite anklet. The most expensive piece of jewelry I owned, it was a silver chain studded with diamond chips given to me by an ex-girlfriend. But the price tag was hardly the reason I cherished it. She gave it to me last year for my twenty- fourth birthday and I considered it a sign of how she felt about me. I was in love with her and it was her way of saying she felt the same.

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"Taxi! Taxi!" Sabrina Kelley waved her hand furiously as the icy Manhattan wind whipped through and around her bones. The New York skyline was rapidly approaching dusk and the evening forecast predicted a heavy round of snowfall in just a matter of hours. Though there was no one there to greet her or make her feel at home, Sabrina desperately wanted to make it back to her hotel room before the bad weather began.

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Annabelle's cotton sheets have ducks on them. They're not made of as nice of a material as the satin I'm laying on now, but the ducks are so cute and so her. I can imagine Annabelle's face when she'd determined that I stood her up on New Year's Eve. I feel so horrible and so cold.

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My heart seems to falter when she walks in the bar. I vaguely hear my friend Samantha, who reluctantly dragged me out tonight, yell at me from a few feet away. I don't make any movement though. I am staring at what, until this moment, was only a dream. My friend finally fights her way over to me, muttering something about me being deaf and all I do is nod forward.

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I've just spent another long, hot afternoon in the garden and all I can think about is taking a shower to cool myself down. The garden looks great, but I'm a mess. Covered in dirt and sweat, I let myself into the back door and slip out of my gardening boots. I've rinsed myself off a bit with the hose but it's nowhere near what a shower could do for me.

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Rachel stood outside the door of the apartment. Her right hand moved up and down the side of her jeans, wiping off the wetness on her palm. Coming here... making the decision to be with her would end up hurting another. 'But it's how I feel... What I want!' She thought to herself.

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Little Devil Chastity was dressed like a cheap whore. Short, black semi-sheer mini-skirt. Braless, she wore a too tight and too small, neon pink tube top that barely contained her boobs. Cheap costume jewelry and knee high faux leather black boots. Poofy blonde hair, overdone make-up and strong perfume. And underneath, lace, red crotchless panties. It made her feel like a slut. It made her feel liberated. It made her feel excited.

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From the moment I saw her hunched over the register, I knew I needed her. Her soft doe eyes awkwardly begged my forgiveness as she pulled the damp fingernail from her pink lips and ran her hand down the side of her worn jeans. A slight smell of menthol cigarettes wafted from her sandy brown hair as she reached for one of the items on the conveyor belt.

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When I walked into the club for Gina's bachelorette party, I was too frazzled from work to wonder who else might be there. I'd left the office closer to seven than six, ran home to change into my one appropriate dress, and now I was late. A broken chunk of sidewalk almost made me later, but I managed not to fall. I was sure I looked ridiculous as I stumbled towards the door, but I got in without further trouble.

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It had been a year since I'd seen her...months since we'd last spoken. When she walked up to me in the lobby of the hotel where our convention was being held all those feelings rushed back to me in an instant. The heat growing through my body. I tugged at my clothes and patted my hair as I watched her walk towards me with that easy gait. Her strides long and confident. Her clothing all black, just like always.

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