Your erotic stories

With the sting of the Mezcal still on her tongue, she could feel its poison pulsing through her head. It was the perfect antidote given that only two shots mesmerized her into seeing purple flowers that crept up the curtains in vines. She knew they weren't really there. She didn't care.

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Sunlight in my eyes, burning through the eyelids, hot on the rest of my body, bad case of cotton-mouth, and an overwhelming need to take that nice long first leak of the day. Not the best way to wake up in the world, but not bad by any means. Last night came back slowly, and I recalled I was on the deck where I had curled up with a bottle of Bailey’s Irish Cream as the party wound down.

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