Your erotic stories

One day I bring you home to my place and introduce you to my friend Liz. She has just showered and still has a little water dripping off her hair and down her chest and into her gown. We sit down on the couch and chat for a bit while Liz goes and gets ready in the bathroom. While she is in the bathroom, I tell you all about the day me and Liz had together.

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"Fine!" Holly yells, as she collapses onto the couch. "Fine!" Chris yells back, as he goes out the door and slams it, hard. Holly huddles on the couch, grasping a pillow to her chest, sobbing her heart out. They just had their first real fight. She can't believe what he expects from her. How dare he assume she'd just go along with his request with no regard for her feelings on the matter.

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When she came down to greet me at the lobby of her dorm building, nobody -- not the security guards nor the other students nor the people passing by on the streets -- could have guessed what was going on. I was in a suit, she in a sexy (but not slinky) red dress that made the red in her hair pop. They'd have thought we were prepared for a classy night on the town (as classy as college students could afford, I suppose). If they had been paying close enough attention to her knowing smirk and my short, fearful breaths, they would probably have known something else was going on.

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John glanced at the clock on the wall. It was nearly 6 in the evening, and Gina, his beautiful bride, was expected home shortly. He placed a bookmark in his novel and rose to check on dinner. He could hear the pasta happily bubbling away on the stove. Moving towards the oven, he flicked on the oven light and bent down to look at the pork roast that was slowly cooking its way to perfection. John and his wife had one rule for their marriage: The one who does the cooking gets to control the events of the evening for the same amount of time as it takes that person to make the meal.

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I feel that you reach a certain stage in your life when you feel like, and need, a change. I suppose that is what happened to us. Sally and I had both reached our late forties and our children had flown the nest and left home for college. Our life was reasonably content, we loved each other, we had a nice house and both had good professional jobs which paid well.

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Everything was almost done and boy, was I thankful. It had been such a busy day! You see, I'd moved earlier that day...my first new apartment on my own after my divorce. My phone was already hooked up and my power was on, now all I needed was cable...well, that and a shower. Who knew when they would show up, though.

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