Your erotic stories

"Good thing we left early. We need gas," Angela told her husband, Kurt. He grunted, not happy with the announcement, but taking it in stride. He was nervous. His kid brother was going to propose to his girlfriend tonight, and he'd invited the whole gang out to witness it. So, they were on their way to a posh drinking spot - formal ware required. So, Angela was in a beautiful blue silk evening gown, and Kurt was in a fancy black tie affair he'd had to rent.

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I had known Diana for over four years, since my husband came to the university here. We've always been friendly in a casual way, never close. We see each other about once every other month, mostly faculty social events involving our husbands. Mine is a bigshot professor, hers is the dean of the college and though they've become pretty good friends over the years, we've never socialized as a foursome.

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She touched the little box in her pocket and smiled as she paced around the bed in the small room. "And you thought I couldn't squick you out," she cackled, opening the container in her clammy fingers and stood at the foot of the mattress. "We'll see."

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He wondered how it had come to this but knew that although he could choose to, there was no way that he would leave. He waited, stirred his coffee and pretended to read the news paper, it must only have been a few minutes but it seemed like hours. A slim, dark haired woman in her early thirties entered the coffee bar and look ed around, at first glance she looked like a librarian, good looking enough but dressing down and soberly. She walked over to table and nervously asked,

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A number of years ago, I placed an ad in the local paper as a free-lance writer offering to write heirloom biographies for a reasonable fee. The idea came to mind after my mother passed away, and I realized how little I really knew of her life. I simply knew her as 'Mom,' and my kids only knew what I passed along to them. My intent was to help families capture the essence of their lives to share with the generations to follow.

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My girlfriend and me are a couple of kinky freaks who like to go what we call "slutting". That's when we find ourselves a foxy young babe or two, usually but not always dykes like us, bring them home, and then get real down and dirty until the wee, wee hours of the morning. One night last week we had picked up this delicious looking young lesbian model at a dyke bar we frequent, a gorgeous African-American knockout with silky mocha-hued skin.

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