Your erotic stories

A torrent was falling straight down in lazy sheets. It was the heart of rainy season, and Mother Nature showed truth in advertising. I would have just stopped right there on the trail to wait it out had it not been for the fact that it would have resulted in being stuck on an unmapped "road" -to use that term loosely- after sundown. Driving in the dark through the jungle was a good way to get stuck in the mud or, worse still, a flash flood.

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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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"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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He sat in his favorite chair, on the back deck, enjoying the afternoon sun. He was feeling sorry for himself remembering old times with his ex-wife. Their union had not been the most exciting life experience. He, was however, looking forward to his ritual afternoon pleasure. He was on his fourth or maybe fifth beer when she finally made her appearance, his next-door neighbor who on any bright sunny afternoon made her ablutions to the sun god wearing nothing but a skimpy two-piece bathing suit. She was too young for him to guess her age, but he took a stab at it noting the maturity of her curves the width of her gorgeous hips and guessed between twenty-eight and thirty-five.

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Sarah looked around her suite at the island resort. It was luxurious, with marble in the bathroom and a balcony looking out to the ocean. She unpacked quickly then she lay on the double bed and stared at the ceiling with tears in her eyes. This was the bed she had been going to share with Roger, her fiancée until two months ago when he had called off their marriage.

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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'm a 55 year old widow who still looks pretty good. My figure is 36C-24-36 and still pretty firm. I weigh 130lbs which is only ten pounds more than I did in high school and that ten pounds is muscle. My hair is dirty blonde which is just starting to turn gray. I'm pretty tall for a woman - 5' 10". The main reason I still look pretty good is I take a Pilates class every week on Mondays. I really enjoy it and it's keeping me looking good.

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I had a really shitty day. My secretary quit, to move to Texas with her new boyfriend. Somebody clipped my brand new Porsche in the parking garage, denting the hell out of the passenger side door and both fenders. One of my clients, the Avengers, tore up the hotel they were staying in. And Ozzie Schmuck, the drummer for Snakepit, got busted for coke and can't make the Australia tour.

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It was a nice, cool day out. It was a perfect day for a run, and even though I'm terrible at it, I felt like I really wanted to, because I love exercise - just not running. But, I wanted to run, so I did. It's better for me if I run with a partner so I called up my friend Cheryl - Cher for short. She is one of the most beautiful women I know, making running way more difficult and uncomfortable, but she's also very sweet and takes it easy on me, unlike other people I could ask.

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I love her. I love everything about her. I love her. I love her eyes; they shine like diamonds reflecting the emerald of a shamrock field. I love her smile; angels have fallen from heaven for envy of that smile. I love her hair, coppery red that flows down her back like glittering lava giving accent to her already breathtaking form. Her every movement is poetry. Mortals walk, the goddess of my devotion glides like water across polished glass.

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