Your erotic stories

I was in my junior year of college and was hating life since I was still a virgin. It wasn't for lack of trying, but my natural shyness overwhelmed my horniness more often than not. I had taken a job in the dining halls as an easy way to make some money and it was a pretty cool job. After I had been there a few weeks, I noticed that one of the full-time workers was talking to me about more and more personal stuff.

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Not long after graduating from college with my bachelors, I moved into a house with some of my frat brothers for about two years. I was lucky enough to find a great job that I knew from the start would lead to bigger things if I worked hard enough. The hours were limited, however, so I found myself with more free time on my hands than I wished for.

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When I first came to terms with the fact I was attracted to women, I did the typical thing. Internet porn was in its infancy, but I was a teenager with nothing but time to learn. I bought magazines as well, flipped through the bare, enhanced, airbrushed breasts and landing strip pussies, and never really got that thrill. I knew I liked women, but these... mutants barely registered on that scale. "Feather your hair, open your eyes as wide as possible, smile wide. Wider. Okay, now, pretend like you're playing baseball and you forgot your uniform pants. Perfect!"

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Sarah stood in the shade of the thatch-roofed picnic shelter, sipping on a diet coke as she spitefully contemplated how her weekend had been completely ruined. After two continuous weeks of stressful work, she had been relishing this much needed weekend to herself. That was until Friday night, when a dreaded phone call from her cheerily coercive mother had ended all her hope of relaxation.

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Melissa kicked off her sandals as she walked into her best friend's apartment. Her very drunk best friend was close behind. "I just need a little nap," Amber slurred, shuffling toward the bedroom she shared with her boyfriend Sam. He was spread out on the couch in their living room, reading a magazine.

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"It's a girl thing," I said with a smile to the shoe salesman as I looked down at the shoes he had slipped on my feet. Spike heels, narrow straps, absolute torture but worth the pain. "Oh believe me, I completely understand," he said with a sheepish grin. I looked down at the man kneeling patiently at my feet while I admired the shoes. He was waiting for me to decide if I liked them or not, looking up at me with those big brown puppydog eyes, ready to run fetch another pair if I just said the word.

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Katie hummed to herself as she strolled down the hallway, her small arms holding a large basket of laundry braced against her stomach. As she reached to door to the laundry room, she pinned the basket to the wall as she dug for her key in her pocket. As she produced the tiny key, she lifted a knee to help her shaking arm bear the weight of the encumbering load as she struggled to slip it into the door. As the towering basket tipped to the side, a sock fell off onto the floor.

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"I've been in quite a writing rut lately, with several of my best stories left unfinished for months now. Many people tell me the only way to get out of a writer's block is to keep writing. Hence, I wrote this story based off something peculiar I noticed at a party; a girl sniffing a pair of flats. At first, I amused myself with the idea the girl had a foot fetish, but soon realized they were hers when she immediately put them on.

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We were four tired neighbors. Of course we were -- we all had kids. Only this night the kids were on a sleep-over. Elsewhere! Yay!! So we four had a potluck supper over at their house. It was very informal. My beloved wife Ginny, a tiny Chinese woman with long black hair and small firm tits, contributed some home-made mac-and-cheese (Ok, so her grandparents were Chinese and she's from Ohio).

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It was a week before I saw Carly again. Unfortunately, it was me who called her. I didn’t want to and tried not to – but we girls know how it can be sometimes. I needed to be fucked and I couldn’t resist her. Come round to mine on Thursday at 8, she’d said. I’ll be alone then.

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