Your erotic stories

I had three choices. I could go home and drown my sorrows in a carton of Ben and Jerry's. I could order something to eat. Or I could get my wine glass refilled - for starters. I motioned to the bartender, and decided not to decide right this minute. I was looking good. I should have been, after the effort I'd made getting ready for this date. The dress was new, and pretty darned hot, frankly. The shoes were new. I had a pleasant tingle of anticipation.

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Nicky pushed opened the back-door to Bob's house. It was Tuesday so she had at least three hours before Bob, her landlord, returned from his weekly trip to town. Three hours to do some washing, have a hot shower and grab some food before Bob returned with his groceries, animal feed and fuel. Nicky lived in a caravan on Bob's farm. Every other day Nicky had to bathe using a basin and a sponge but on Tuesdays she took the opportunity to 'play house' while Bob was out.

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I see nothing but blackness. My eyes search for light, but nothing registers. I blink and see absolutely... nothing. In this stifling darkness hands find me. Feminine fingers caress my skin reassuringly. But I don't know whose they belong to, nor do they tell me.

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Day 1. My wife Pam is very pretty and has a nice figure. She is also quite timid and will avoid confrontation at almost any cost. I worried that would eventually get her into trouble, and while I was partly right about that, it turned out to be something totally unexpected that was the dominant factor. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

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Cathy was shivering as she hurried to her Mustang in the school parking lot. She ignored all the whistles and comments from the students as the cold wind swirled around and blew her skirt up revealing her slim legs and pink panties. After starting the car she put on the heater but it blew nothing but cold air. She wished that she lived in a warmer climate than New Jersey.

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Falling flat on my face was not the greatest way to start off the evening but there you have it. I was unpacking taped cardboard boxes in my newly rented apartment. Such a hassle. "How's it going?" Someone had stepped inside. I forgot I had left the front door open. He was a very big man, somewhere around 6'2 wearing all leather. Quite intimidating actually but he was smiling and seemed friendly.

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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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She stood in front of the mirror, slowly taking in what she saw reflected. Most of her day had been spent alone, so that she might have ample time to prepare. Her dark eyes flickered as they moved over her image, checking carefully, looking for even the smallest flaw. The short sundress she wore appeared white at first glance, but was actually a pale lilac. It had an embroidered bodice and hem, and spaghetti straps that left her shoulders exposed.

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Damn, Alyson thought, she's doing it again! "She" was Melissa, Alyson's roommate, and "it" was Melissa's distracting habit of running around their apartment half-naked. Today it was just bra and panties, as she stood ironing some clothes for her date that night. They were pretty skimpy little panties that left nothing to the imagination. Well, actually, they left a lot to Alyson's imagination.

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My name is Kay. I'm a 31 year-old, happily un-married middle-class white woman with a marvelous life - except for being addicted to sex. Maybe it's only the risk factor that I'm addicted to. I honestly don't know, but I do know I'll sometimes take awful risks to anonymously and spontaneously fuck total strangers. There, now that I have that part out of the way maybe I can also be honest with the rest of what I want to explain.

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