Your erotic stories

They were friends - good friends - the kind of friends who had known each other for ten years and seen each other during the good and bad times of their lives. He had lusted after her since their early teens, but she had never looked his way twice...until now. It was in the heat of summer and working late nights in the store had taken their toll on the slender redhead and she was longing for someone to come in and give her a night to remember.

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I'm out cycling; I generally cycle most weekends, usually with a friend, but today I'm on my own. I'm going fairly fast along a winding country road; I see a few parked cars on my side of the road ahead of me. I look around to see if it's safe to pull out and avoid the cars. As I look forward again, I see a car door, sweeping open in front of me, thinking - what the hell - where the hell did that come from. I try to swerve around it, but 'nop', I catch the edge of the door and this throws me off my bike, bike one way, me another, rolling a few times until I end up in a small pond.

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The doorbell rang and I went to answer it, it was Tas. Tas has come to see why my broadband was not working. A little bit about me first. Let's start with my name. I'm Louisa, but you can call me Lou; everyone does, even Tas. I'm fifty three and have been a widow for three years. Yes my husband died the day after my fiftieth birthday. He had a stroke. We did make love the night before.

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"Go piss off and walk your fucking dog!" My girlfriend shouted at me for coming home drunk late last night. My girlfriend and I share a flat. A new place we recently moved into and a new neighbourhood for us. And as you have gathered, we have, well it's my dog. I had slept most of the day and it was around six o'clock Friday evening. Yeah I know, lazy bastard. Well we both had a few days off work for the move. It was Friday, and we also had the weekend off. I was out with a few mates drinking, chatting, drinking, eyeing up girls, drinking... you know what young men get up to in their early twenties.

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"YOU PRICK! YOU FUCKING PRICK!!!" Kaylee stood frozen in the bedroom door. Her arms were rigid at her side; her fists were clenched as she watched her sister dive off of Kaylee's fiancé's rapidly deflating cock. He laid there, too shocked to move, while her sister tried to hide beneath the sheets.

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I had seen him around the halls a few times, but he had only smiled weakly at me and glanced at the ground. For the longest time I didn't even know his name. I assumed he must be an adjunct professor at my prestigious graduate school; he dressed professional, and his silver hair was a clue to his age bracket. For the life of me, I do not understand why he was so intriguing. He stood about six feet tall, and his body-type was that of a wrestler or rugby player;

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Could I really be doing this? I'm following some guy at a garage to the back room - seriously, the back room - where he is no doubt going to fuck my brains out. I'm watching his muscular ass ripple in his tight jeans, and I'm already unzipping my leather jacket. It was barely holding me in to begin with, and since I don't seem to be wearing anything underneath it, I'm already bouncing free by the time that my surprise lover opens the stock room door. We slip in, I slam the door closed with my foot, and he reaches for me.

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She knew he wanted her. She strode efficiently between the workstations; her eyes never wavered from the door to her office, she walked with purpose and confidence. She acknowledged him, but only in a curt professional manner, she wasn't here to be anyone's friend. His eyes followed her to her office, she knew he watched her and she enjoyed it.

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I was always amazed at how someone from my past unfailingly seemed to turn up on opening nights of exhibitions. It didn't seem to matter which city I was in, some old school friend, long lost family member or an acquaintance from the photography fraternity seemed to find the ads for my openings in the small print and turn up to say hi.

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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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