Your erotic stories

"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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Dear Readers, Everything is going according to plan. -Steve For a minute, I couldn't help but stare at him. Shock washed over me, intermixed with hurt, as if a needle full of misery had been injected into my veins. Whatever had been built last night was beginning to crumble all around us. It was like watching the 1871 burning of Chicago and being powerless to stop the devastation as it swept across town.

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At 28 years old I hadn't been with a man for three years. The first two years after my husband died, I couldn't bare the thought of another man touching me. I felt like it was cheating. Jake wasn't supposed to die in that car accident. He was supposed to grow old and gray with me. Jake was gone and I knew I had to move on, but acknowledging this didn't make things any easier. Still, at twenty-eight I wasn't willing to spend the rest of my life alone.

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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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"Reception to Tom, over." The radio on his belt squawked softly, and his friend Gina's voice beckoned to him from his reverie. "This is Tom. Go ahead, Gina, over." "Tom, I have a guest request for an unusual repair, over." "What do I need to bring up, Gina? Over." "I don't really know, Tom. Can you come to the front, please? Over." That was unusual for Gina; she's a great communicator, so it must have been something "Personal" that the guest needed.

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So much for a senior prom, I mused, watching the flicker of the candle flames on the center piece. They wriggled in the dimly lit ballroom of the Rose Hotel, stretching only to almost drown in the liquid wax only to stretch again. It was supposed to be a platinum night. I had a date with a chick named Kara that had a killer body and a bottle of vodka my older brother bought me waiting in a room I rented upstairs.

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Anna's parents came from Europe. Her father was a tall blond from Poland and her mother a red-haired beauty from Ireland. Yet poor Anna was stuck with the wrong branch of the DNA. She was six feet and then some in her socks. Her face was plain with a broad forehead, long jaw and beaked nose. Most of her height was in her legs. She wore men's jeans with a 30 inch waist and 36 inch inseam. Her hair was neither blond nor red but a sad mixture resulting in a rough brown. Her height served her well in obtaining a volleyball scholarship to college where she majored in business.

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