Your erotic stories

Pam Angelo's nipples ached with arousal and threatened to poke holes into her ebony turtleneck sweater, even as her stomach turned flip-flops with butterflies of anxiety. She smiled despite herself and remembered a line from the Arnie Becker character from LA Law. Pam was "overwrought with ambivalence". People always say 'I've never done this before', Pam thought as she eased her white Lexus into the hotel parking lot, but she had really never done something quite like this before.

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Regina was in a fine mood. Her son, William, and her daughter in law, Jennifer were coming to pick her up. She was returning to her old home for 2 weeks to help look after her grand-daughter, Kaileigh, while William and Jennifer went to Jamaica. Jennifer's brother, Dustin, was living there and would be watching the baby when he was home, so Regina would be watching the child whne he wasn't. He worked rotating shifts so their schedule would be a little erratic.

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Many years ago I was pretty active in taking outdoor photographs. I hated doing people, and especially didn't like doing weddings but they paid a lot better than the occasional sell of a scenic photo, so I shot weddings and family portraits as they came along. Like I said, that was quite a few years ago. When kids came along there wasn't time for my photo trips and the activity died out. Now, with the kids all on their own and me single again, there's a lot more time to do the things I want to do.

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I was already bored with my 'date' from the night before, the prototypical one-nighter with a nurse from Clifton Park who chain-smoked like a runaway locomotive. As Apollo Creed once told Rocky Balboa,"Ain't gonna be no rematch." Rocky, of course, grunted back, "Don't want one." So, in all fairness, I'm sure the feeling was mutual. We both got what we wanted, that's what makes a one-nighter a one-nighter, right?

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Gail Davis watched the young man, perhaps in his mid-to-late twenties, climb out of his sports car and walk towards the office of her small real estate business in rural New Jersey. As she did so, Gail began to feel an immediate moistness between her legs. Not much older than my oldest daughter, she thought, eyeing him through the tinted window, feeling her nipples stiffen through the confines of her half-bra and cotton blouse. Other than her frequent masturbation sessions, her nipples hadn't been this hard in far too long.

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Serena McGuire hated boats; that was all there was to it. The rolling beneath her feet, the closed confinement. Even the sea air bothered her, although it never had before. Of course, she had been on a beach then. But the combination now had her stomach rolling along with the waves of the ocean. Her best friend, Isabel Trecher, instructed her that if she would actually spend some time on the deck, instead of in their cabin (which happened to be on the lowest deck, complete with two beds, one dresser, and no window), she would feel much better. Probably, Serena mused, because she would be as liquored up as Isabel is.

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The start of her first real affair After dropping Tom off at the airport, she spent the rest of the morning sorting out what she was going to wear. She realised she hadn't been so excited about going out for years. She had the butterflies in her tummy which she had got as a teenager when she was going out on a first date with someone she had really fancied.

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I was getting tired. The drone of the two Pratt & Whitney Wasp Jr. engines was hypnotically seductive. I was almost to my destination. I directed the air from a vent at my face. It was chilly and helped quite a bit. I blinked the sleep from my eyes and checked the GPS. Almost there. Time to be alert. I reached to the copilot seat and opened the cooler and got a icy wash cloth. I rubbed my face and eyes and felt lots better. I could see the lake ahead and pulled back on the throttles a bit and dropped the nose some.

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One of the best amenities to my last apartment was my next door neighbors. They consisted of a mother and her two daughters. Veronica, the mother, was a teacher, around my age and, like me, was divorced. About my height, she was on the taller side for a woman, and very attractive. You could tell that she had been very beautiful when she was younger, but had gone through a lot in life, and it had all taken it's toll on her.

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Michael Powell was exhausted now. He lay very still, taking small, shallow, quick breaths. On his lumpy single bed, staring at the cracked, white ceiling of his room, Michael recounted the events of earlier that night, in his own private mind movie. He took one deeper breath, closed his eyes and smiled. He opened them again and reached over to pick up the toilet roll from the floor at the side of his bed.

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