Your erotic stories

After my heartbeat slowed, I could finally feel myself getting to a dryer state. I was covered in my own sweat and wetness, but now that the lovemaking was done, I was beginning to cool off. For the first time that night I could hear the ceiling fan lazily spinning overhead. I already missed seeing Logan over me and hearing his heavy breathes in my ear for what seemed like for hours. I don't know how long we had been fucking, but we did it until we exhausted ourselves. With dewy skin and a still wet pussy, I got out of bed and reached for my panties.

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You pour me another glass of wine, the night air is cooling but the water in the hot tub is keeping us from getting chilled. The party has moved inside but there are still three of us left. You sit snuggled up beside me, legs intertwined under the water. You have one leg over mine and the other spread out to the side, exposing your pussy without being too obvious about it. S sits across from us, we are talking quietly, enjoying the sounds of the night. I had turned off the lights earlier so we could see the stars but the moon and the light from the house allows us to see each other well.

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I'm standing at the registration desk of the hotel we agreed upon, a small bag in my hand. I didn't pack much, as you requested. I don't think I'll need much else, this weekend, do you? The woman returns with my credit card and hands me a slip of paper. "You have a message, ma'am." I open the paper and read:

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You are on the phone and I cannot resist. I am drawn to the sound of your voice, just like Peaches-the-cat, and just as predisposed to purr as she is. You are sitting in your chair, staring sightlessly at the computer monitor as you talk. 'Ah, good,' I think, 'its not work-related.' I long to touch you and I do so, running my fingers over your bare shoulders and down your chest.

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You're laying on your stomach at first. You can hear the footsteps of men enter the room; you're not sure how many there are. You can feel them approach silently, wordlessly. They walk around you. Their eyes are locked on your naked body, soaking in every curve, every crevice.

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First thing in the morning I woke up and looked at you while you were still sleeping. You looked calm, peaceful and as beautiful as ever. I long to see that sight every morning and kiss your lips good morning. I didn't want to leave the room so I tucked in closer to you, held your head and stroked your soft, plush belly and looked and smelled your hair and skin. And again it all felt so very right and the world shrunk.

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I imagine you coming home tonight, surprised how all your snow chores are done. You walk into the house and it's warm, there's a light in the kitchen, and you enter, curious about what you'll find. As you enter I turn around and smile. I've been hard at work at the stove, cooking our diner. You can tell that a soup is bubbling away, perfect for this cold winter night.

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You have drifted off to sleep and are having restless dreams because you are slightly obsessed with fantasies you've been sharing with someone you've never met. Somewhere in your subconscious, you hear the sound of a door opening in your apartment, but your hind brain doesn't feel threatened and you continue to doze...

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It's summer, the middle of the season, and damned hot. It's the sort of heat you can taste and smell. Lazy, bookworm, windows thrown open to the world kind of weather. My magazine has fallen to the floor and my body feels deliciously heavy with heat and sweat.

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I step into the room, excited, barely able to catch my breath with the anticipation. I stand for a moment in the doorway, both to give to you the chance of taking in my appearance, and so compose myself. I want to present a cool, calm, controlled front, not to betray how excited I am. I am dressed in a leather jacket with leather trousers and tight, thick leather gloves.

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