Your erotic stories

Brad sat on the floor in his darkened room. Across the narrow side yard that separated their houses, the sheer curtains in Ann's room were not quite closed, and the light in her room made them almost transparent. Brad waited, patiently. A few minutes later he was rewarded, as Ann stepped out of her bathroom, toweling her short brown hair dry. Naked, she walked across the room and stopped in front of her dresser. Brad reached down and began gently stroking his penis.

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One thing you should know, about me and the man I describe here, is that we've never really been 'together'. What we have had is more than ten years of friendship, the best and worst of shared experiences and, most importantly, the most insatiable, uncontrollable desire for each other that either of us had ever experienced. On this particular day, we were heading out to a concert, but I also happened to be introducing him to one of my best friends for the first time. I arrived at his place just as he was getting home from a run.

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I typed it in an IM window. 'Come fuck me' it said. Her reply was simple. 'Yes, Master.' How many times had I typed that to her in role-playing chat when I was on the opposite coast of the country? I've even typed that when I was close enough for us to make it happen. I would be there with my laptop in the king-sized bed at my hotel in D.C., messaging her at her home in New York. Close, but far. 'Come fuck me,' I typed. 'Yes, Master,' she replied. Odd how the same words looked different this time -- that was last night.

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It was Saturday morning and Trish's turn to canvass the neighborhood for her real estate firm, looking for listings. In the current brisk housing market, a broker had to be aggressive, and Trish knew the name of that game. An eye-popping redhead with green eyes and a knockout figure, she did all right, especially with male clients. Many tried to put the make on her, and she didn't mind that.

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When I was 19, after my first year of bible college, I took a place on a crew going treeplanting in central British Columbia. I'd heard a lot about the good money, but, apparently, not every season is the same. We spent days and days crammed in a motel in Prince George — sometimes four and five of us to a room — paying whether we liked it or not.

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It had been an exhausting morning of running around. Early that afternoon it had turned cold and grey, so I decided to cut off work early and head home. I was looking forward to having some time alone. Pulling up the lane, I was pleasantly surprised to see my hubby's truck parked in front of the house. He is a contractor, building new homes, and must have decided the weather was too gloomy to work in too.

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It was early afternoon, and it had been a quiet day. I had gotten a few things from the shops and done some things in the garden. Staff party tonight. Christ, I can't be arsed. All that brown nosing. I'll have to stand with the boss, and he won't be listening to a word I say. He'll just be leering at my wife, Jane. She copes well with it, but I know she hates it. We're both in our late thirties now. There was a time in our 20s it would have been funny. We would have laughed about it. But now? He's a lecherous old man in his mid-fifties and it's just sad and very annoying.

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In his novel "I Will Fear No Evil," One of Heinlein's female characters remarks that, until a woman has been in bed with two men who love and trust one another as much as they love and trust her, she's still got "One virginity to go, and an important one." When I first read this as a teenager, I felt a visceral response. Yes, I thought to myself with deep conviction, that's for me!

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A few weeks ago, I went to a local 'fast food restaurant' for breakfast, which is the norm for me. I am divorced and live alone and I see no profit in buying eggs, bacon, bread, sausage, and all that stuff, taking the time to prepare it and then cleaning up afterward. So shoot me, I am going to eat out for breakfast.

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I walked into the apartment and heard unmistakable sex noises coming from the room of our roommate, Leah. There was loud moaning and grunting, and the bed rhythmically slamming against the wall. OK, I should start from the beginning. Early in my relationship with my girlfriend, Lauren, we had a two-bedroom apartment downtown. The second room was mostly unused until Lauren's friend Stacy had mentioned that her best friend, Leah, was starting law school nearby and needed a place to live.

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