Your erotic stories

What to write about? What to write about I mused to myself, my mind momentarily blank. Glancing through the pages and pages of stories in Literotica you could be forgiven for thinking that just about every topic for a story had already been used. I sat back in the chair pondering on possible story themes and as I did I started thinking about my life so far.

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I had just stepped out of the shower when I heard the doorbell. I wrapped the towel around me and dripped to the front door. Guys are much more able to do that than girls are. We can drip, and show up at the door in only a towel from the waist down, and no one thinks it's a come-on. If a girl does it, she's just asking for it.

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He shivered and pulled the collar of his coat up higher, trying to keep the cold rain from running down his neck. Obviously his decision to walk to the art gallery had not been a good one. Hopefully Angie would be able to do something about his wet clothes. Angie was the owner of the small and very successful art gallery.

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Doug shook hands firmly with Chow Min, sealing the deal. He'd learned a long time ago to be firm in everything in life and had since earned the reputation as a shark. He didn't mind. It meant that his business was the envy of other companies. It meant he was the best. It meant that people who had once looked down on the backwater kid from Louisiana now looked up to him as employer.

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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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Every year William and I hold our "Come as You Bizarre" party. Everyone is required to dress in a way they never would in real life, in a way that would make their friends laugh, cry or recoil in shock. Last year I was a Playboy bunny, the year before, a scantily clad wench. This year, I chose a skin tight black wet-look catsuit, one that showed off every single curve of my body.

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"Shit Joe!" I snapped in angry embarrassment. "How many times do I have to remind you to put a rubber band on the doorknob!" "Oh wow!" my college roommate cried. "Sorry man!" "And must you always do it on the rug?" I complained. "Your bed it right there!" "I like the rug," he replied with a grin.

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That Friday was remarkable because it wasn't the thirteenth, which might have gone a long way in explaining the unbelievable circumstances that unfolded for all of the participants had it indeed been the thirteenth. No one could have foreseen the eventual outcome, although all would agree in the end that the end result was more than any of them could ever have hoped for.

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I drove Emily all around our city and showed her the different areas of interest. We chatted and had a very good time. We were like two old friends and anyone who would have seen us would have no idea of the lewd things we had been engaged in just a few moments earlier. We ate at one of the finer restaurants in town and, of course it was Emily's treat. She had loaned me a pair of white cotton panties because Ann's blue ones were soaked with my sexual secretions and I could not wear them under my white pants.

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More than a week passed before I was finally able to follow up with Rebecca's invitation from the CFNM party at Anna's home. I had tucked her card away in my wallet and did not even look at it until that time. I was surprised. The card read: Rebecca McLeish, PhD and gave me her contact info. The fact that she was a 'Doctor' was an interesting bit of news, but it helped motivate me to get back with this woman; she certainly had been exciting at the party and we'd hit it off wonderfully. I called her number.

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