Your erotic stories

Luka Brenner had thought he was adjusting to his new job, new city and new place just fine. In fact he loved his new job. The hours were good, the pay was decent and he felt he was really making a good impression on his boss and colleagues. He had even made a few work friends that he sometimes grabbed lunch with or even the occasional beer after work. 

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As the door shut behind us, he attacked my mouth with all the vigor and passion built up all evening. I could only submit to him and moan wantonly into the kiss that has got me weak in the knees, literally. I sagged against the wall with only Jon's arms pinning me to keep me from falling. His thigh slowly found its way between my legs and started the hypnotic grind against my crotch. The wave of ecstasy hit me like I couldn't imagine and I started to beg him.

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In those days, I didn't wear underwear. I had long hair down to the small of my back. I was in good shape, lean and muscular, a bike rider with thick legs and a laid-back demeanor. You probably know the type. So a certain kind of woman often responded to me. A certain kind of man, too, although I'd never given that a thought. For my part, here's what I liked in a woman: Natural, sensual. smart. Sexual intellectuals. Open and daring, although even if they weren't, I usually got them there pretty quick.

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When I write my stories, I am concerned with one an only one thing - trying to create a mood of tenderness and longing. Sometimes I probably over do it. And I end up getting into such heightened state, I get really worked-up - and I write most of the really "haunted" love stuff when I am right on the edge. When I re-read my stories, I can tell that parts were created in that shaky mind space.

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Sarah looked around her suite at the island resort. It was luxurious, with marble in the bathroom and a balcony looking out to the ocean. She unpacked quickly then she lay on the double bed and stared at the ceiling with tears in her eyes. This was the bed she had been going to share with Roger, her fiancée until two months ago when he had called off their marriage.

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Now. I stand under the needling hot spray until the water starts to cool, and shut it off, and push the wide glass door open to release billows of steam. Drip and splash across the wide marble floor and wipe a clear circle on the mirror with a thick white towel. Behind me the sun is trying, and failing, to pierce the overcast. Not likely in February.

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It wouldn't have happened, Dianne decided, if she hadn't been so damn conscientious about the job. She'd assured her boss that the amended tender he wanted would be on his desk when he arrived in the morning. And then she'd had to go home early for a family emergency. An emergency that wasn't, as if turned out. Her mother had been panicking over nothing. She should have got more details before rushing home, expecting to have to take someone to hospital.

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