Your erotic stories

It was a Friday evening and everyone had left the office for the start of a long weekend. So many people with exciting plans and here I am sat working late, no one to share my time with. All the family had plans which should have meant a quiet weekend at home with a good book and a bit of pampering. So why am I feeling miserable, no noise, no kids, no hassle and no being the taxi service for 3 whole days.

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As Jenny rolled lazily onto her back she could still, with each breath, sense the sweet saltiness of Mike's semen and the tang of his after-shave that lingered about the satin sheets and pillows of her rumpled bed. It had been a wonderful weekend that had seemed to last forever and it had all begun with a chance encounter in the super-market.

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Peaches, peaches everywhere but not a bite to eat. I was pondering upon my existence and lack of life while downing my second glass of whisky. A hunger deep inside me resided for many months with no opportunity for quenching. Suddenly a gorgeous peach appeared before me begging to be eaten. Mind oblivious to my body's actions, I was madly devouring the fruit with out any thought involved.

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After the shock of walking into the house from work and seeing my girlfriends, after the kisses and hellos and a scolding, affectionate look at my husband, I sat at the patio table and was handed a beer and got the details. My silly husband, bless him, knew how I enjoyed my nights with the girls, without our husbands, just chatting and eating things we shouldn't and laughing at our lives. He had conspired with Mona, my best friend of the group, to get the girls to my house for a night.

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"Here you go, babydoll. Cabernet okay?" I nodded and took the glass from him, motioning for him to come sit next to me in the little corner booth. I know it's silly, but I couldn't really bear to have him sit all the way across the table - not when he could be right there next to me, his arm around me, his thigh pressed against mine.

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My hands were trembling as I sipped on my chocolate martini. I was fidgeting with the rim of the glass, running my finger around the lip of the martini glass. I kept glancing down at my watch, anxiously waiting for him to arrive. The surprise I had for him was becoming more than I could handle, as I was itching to have my fun.

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It was Gill's 40th birthday and we had arranged a big party on the Friday night at a local social club. Family, friends and work colleagues had all been invited and a disco booked. Because we were likely to be dancing and drinking late into the night, I had arranged with my parents that our two kids would go home with them at about 10pm and then stay the night at their house.

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It was one of those days where you just wanted to go out and get yourself laid. My name is Gus Roberts, 32 years old, and it's been in a while since I've had a steady relationship. I'm kinda on the stocky side, a little under 6 feet tall, and short brown hair. I was wearing a classy black shirt and matching slacks, flashing some cash, buying women drinks and trying to get some at a local singles bar.

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The dry warm spring day began to cool and I finally emerged from the reverie of fishing. All day I had fly fished on this desert river. The spring runoff from the surrounding mountains swelled the stream and kept me from feeling the heat of midday, but as the sun set the cold water began to chill me. I realized that I must pack my gear and try to find the road out of this wild place. Finding such an ideal spot, that was completely deserted, had been my goal and by using maps and conjecture I had successfully found the place I desired.

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Kara entered her house a little unsteadily. She had just gone to the third Halloween costume party of the week and was drunk as well as fed up. The party had been her friend Christine's. "It's all the same, every year," she thought to herself. "I'm always the single woman at these damn things. I walk in, and everyone asks, 'Who did YOU bring, Kara?'

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