Your erotic stories

The cleaning girl, Monica, had arrived early on Friday afternoon. "Good afternoon, Ms. Stephens." Monica said. "Please, call me Jennifer." Opening the door to her two thousand square foot home, the tall, statuesque woman smiled at her cleaning girl. The eldest daughter of a neighbor down the street, Monica had grown into an incredibly sexy young woman. Jennifer shut the door behind her and stared dreamily at the young woman, shaking her head slightly.

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For the past several years I've played in a co-ed soccer league, something I said I'd never do in my younger days. But I've discovered over the years that playing sports with girls can be a lot of fun, and recently that fun level hit a new gear. The team had just won an intense match on a hot day and several of us decided to go to a local watering hole to celebrate the win.

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It's been more than a few days since my "Birthday Beach Bang", but I find myself replaying it over and over in my mind. More than once I have awakened perspiring, with my sheets in disarray. I've been reliving that grand adventure in my dreams almost every night. I suppose that my friend Cassie asking me about it almost every day at work might have something to do with it as well.

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The bar was its usual sticky hot, the ceiling fans inadequately trying to breathe fresh air on our warm bodies. The heat lent to more trips to the bar than usual, and tonight I was really feeling the rhythm, loading up on gin and tonics, downing them in my trip from the bar's edge to the middle of the dance floor. It had been weeks since we last spoke. I missed seeing you every night at the bar, shooting the shit, staring at each other, me catching whiffs of your cologne and perspiration.

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I met Jaime on my job working as a waitress. Our restaurant was something like hooters but with a different name. All of us waitresses wore short booty shorts, tight t-shirts and high heels. It was hard walking around all night in those shoes but the tips were fabulous.

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"Thanks for coming in, Jenny. We'll be back in touch with you." And with those words, I figured that was all I'd ever hear about the summer job I'd just interviewed for. I'd spent half the morning getting ready to meet the manager of Dustee's, the little clothing boutique at the mall where I'd put in my application. And in about five minutes, the interview was over!

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Nora. Red-haired, round-bottomed, small-breasted. Thin, lithe and angular. Shaved her pubic hair into patterns, depending on her mood. Tattoo of a treble clef on her ankle. Her relationship before me had been with a woman. After me, she moved in with a couple. Sometimes I led my girlfriends (later, my wife) to the dark side. Nora had a steady table there long before I got to her.

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I've never been the type of girl to have a crush. Back in high school, when all of my friends were talking about the various boys of the week, I was talking about my favorite books or newest sci-fi. Sure, my friends shared some of my interests, but we never connected on that level.

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Note: The first story in this 'series' is "Danni Gets Her Wish." You don't really need to read it to understand this one, but I might write more stories that involve previous ones I've written. This story is told from Danni's roommate's perspective.

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The scent of cooked turkey still lingered in kitchens across America and the shops and stores were already decorated for Christmas; the coffee shop where Carol sat being no exception. Disconsolately sipping her latte, she didn't feel in a very celebratory mood. The promise of employment that had motivated her to leave home and move to the city hadn't materialized and now she was homesick, low on funds and still job hunting.

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