Your erotic stories

"I miss him so much," she said finally, after a long silence. She looked on the verge of tears, so I covered my best friend's hand with mine; it seemed the only thing I could do at that tender moment. She glanced down at our joined hands and continued, "I can't bring myself to clear out his closet. It smells too much of him. Everyone says I need closure, but I guess it's just too soon."

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It all started one evening at our local bookstore. I was browsing through the racks, Rachel having wandered off to glance at the science fiction section. I noticed an autobiography by a well-known porn actress and picked it up. The cover featured the author looking very hot in a black corset and matching boots. Rachel returned while I was reading the blurbs on the back cover. She saw what I was looking at and chuckled.

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Ben and Ann had perfected their scam quite nicely. They were on their way to yet another win. They relished their successes. Ann was about to capture her next victim. Patti, aged 45, was a bit older than Ann, perhaps by fifteen years, but trim and fit, rather pretty, although she seemed to keep herself looking a bit plain. She had a nice body, with smaller, still-firm breasts. Patti worked with Ann, so they were around each other quite often.

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Sweat dripped off Matthew's forehead and stung his pale blue eyes. Not the Halloween weather Matthew remembered growing up with in Delaware. Even after four years he had difficulty adjusting to his new home in San Diego. Adults ferried their costumed children through the hot afternoon, trick or treating amidst shops that enticed with free treats for the little kids and costly treats for the bigger ones. Signs posted in bars announced Halloween parties with prizes for the best costume. Tattoo parlors advertised Halloween discounts.

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Helen was a little surprised when the doorbell rang at precisely nine a.m., exactly when the contractor had told her that the workers would arrive to build her new deck. She was even more surprised when she opened the door and saw two young men who couldn't be more than twenty years old.

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My friend, George, the sleeping car attendant, teases me with a double entendre private nickname. He calls me "All-Aboard Betty." Let me explain. I have necessarily drawn George into a conspiracy because I need him to achieve my purpose during periodic journeys aboard The Frontier, a transcontinental passenger train. When I'm aboard the Frontier becomes instead the Piece Train. (Apologies to Yusuf Islam. The devil made me do that.)

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My name is Scott and this story is about the summer after I graduated High school. I had one of the most erotic experiences of my life back then. Like most truly spontaneous adventures, the events of that summer have affected me in a manner, which I am convinced has driven my libido to the point of constant desire to this day.

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It started in the restaurant - two women and a guy - they had found each other through various internet links - friendships had been made - thoughts and fantasies exchanged. There was anticipation in the air - it had taken many months to all get in this booth together.

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I hung up the phone and waited to be buzzed in, maneuvering the box in my left arm so I could see my watch. Shit. Five after eight. Almost on time. Well, if I was going to be late, this was the night to do it. The normally frigid March weather was glorious. Most of the snow had melted and I'd opted for sandals instead of my usual choice of sneakers. How'd I gotten stuck babysitting on a Saturday night like this again?

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I'm going to do what they say people of my age (the thick end of sixty plus) are best at; I'm going reminisce about my youth. For me this was towards the end of the nineteen-fifties, when rock-and-roll ruled over drainpipe trousers and drape jackets and everyone jived to Elvis, Little Richard, Chuck Berry, etc. In England it was the time of the 'ton-up boy' who rode motorbikes with British names and who wore leather jackets liberally sprinkled with metal studs.

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