Your erotic stories

The club is crowded tonight, and hot. The press of bodies, half-naked and gleaming, is a feast. The warm brush of flesh against flesh is a fever. Bodies clashing and rubbing become a furnace fueling my desire. As I make my way to the bar, threading carefully through the throng, my hand touches a shoulder here, a well-muscled chest there, my bottom brushing against the crotch of someone behind me as I squeeze through a small corridor.

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A story about a chance meeting from a while back. The young man is no longer quite as young but is much wiser. * Chapter One: Off the bus How I found myself at that bus station in Fort Wayne, Indiana is a long and not very interesting story that can be condensed in a few paragraphs.

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I am asleep. Then, suddenly, I am awake. I can feel him. Standing there in the dark corner of the room. I can't see him, I only know he's there. Did he wake me? It's cold. And I'm naked under the covers. I sit up, thinking maybe I can catch a glimpse of him if I do. But I cannot.

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"I was afraid you'd never speak to me again, Edie." David ran a hand down my arm and a shiver followed behind, sending goosebumps popping across my skin. "I don't know what possessed me to take a risk like that." He looked at me carefully. I waited, heart beating hard. It seemed to take ages from the time he began to bend toward me until his lips touched mine. I thought, in that seemingly endless interval, I would faint from anticipation and disbelief.

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~This is a story of fiction based on a real life relationship between two people who love and care for each other. These characters interact in a manner that not all readers may be able to connect with, but stays true to the dynamic that exists between the real life players behind it. Please take this into account as you rate and comment, hope you enjoy.~

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The pain was fighting with the pleasure; the fear with the exhilaration. The struggle for the dominant sensation was sending my adrenaline through the roof. God, I was skipping along the top of the clouds. Shit, I was skimming the searing flames of hell. Pain, pleasure. Pleasure, pain. Right there on the edge. Would he love me or kill me? Would he fulfill my desires? Or would he take me to the edge of release only to abandon me to want and frustration? Either way, this was the edge that made me feel alive. This . . . this . . . this, right here, right now.

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I sat eating a simple grilled cheese and a bowl of potato soup. Well, perhaps not eating as I was enraptured by a woman sitting with another having lunch three tables away from me. Her friend had her back to me but I did not care. She was not the source of my attention. No, I was spellbound by the woman facing me. And because of that I was somewhat surprised.

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The muscle car jammed to a stop, pavement ripping into tires, making a shriek only slightly louder than, say, a 13-inch masonry blade tearing through highway concrete. Choking slightly as acrid smoke of burning rubber washed over me, I ran to the driver's window and quickly negotiated a ride.

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I waited eagerly for you at the door. Peeking through the small windows hoping you wouldn't see me before you got inside the door. The suit I wore was driving me crazy...so tight and hot. My skin couldn't breathe at all and I was getting sweaty. It felt like the 10 min it normally took you to get home from work was taking far too long.

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Sun, sand, and silence. The beach was gloriously empty. Susan had been coming to this stretch of the Côte d'Ivoire for years. It was her retreat from the whirl of business life. The pavillon was humble by modern standards -- only a few rooms, with aging fitments -- but its rustic charm somehow enhanced rather than reduced its appeal. It was a family-run affair: well, it had been. The concierge had mentioned a change of ownership when she'd arrived yesterday afternoon.

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