Your erotic stories

After 32 Valentines Days spent together, her mind contemplative as she thinks of something unique, something that will take his breath away as surely as the merest glimpse of him turns her to a quivering mass of aroused and wet female flesh. There is time, she grins and reaches for the phone. She spends the next three days buying and arranging her assortment of Valentine gifts for her husband.

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Marcie gave a grin at the tousled-haired, platinum blond who rubbed at sky-blue eyes that normally held at least some vague sparkle, but that presently simply reflected bone-weariness. "I hate nights," came from behind hands which hid a face of delicate bone-structure and beauty most women would be envy. "I know, Layton, but you'll get in the swing of sleep by day soon." She allowed sympathy to colour her voice.

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"I was sure you were going to get the manager's job at the bank's new branch over on Castle, Don. Maybe it's because you can't be spared from this branch." "No, Ted, I don't think I'll ever be given a manager's job." "I don't understand." "Let's take our coffees over to the corner table there and I'll see if I can explain it." We'd planned on just picking up coffees to go and to walk back to the bank and have our break in the staff break room. But I wasn't really in the mood to be back there. The announcement of the staffing of the new Castle branch had come an hour ago.

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It was a shitty way to spend Valentine's Day Jeff reflected as he tapped impatiently on the steering wheel, waiting for the traffic lights to change. The meeting had gone as well as could be expected under the circumstances but still, it was about as much fun as having all his teeth pulled with a pair of rusty pliers. It kind of gave a whole new meaning to the idea of the 'Valentine's Day Massacre.'

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She'd been planning this day for weeks. He didn't celebrate holidays much, just marked the time passing. But she meant to change that. Holidays should be special, she mused happily. Valentine's Day especially! It's the perfect day to celebrate being alive and in love, a day to enjoy! He'd had to work that morning, but the evening she intended to be devoted only to him.

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I met Thomas and his wife Vera on the plane down to the Bahamas. We shared seating in first class. I was headed for a vacation and they were returning home from Houston. Thomas had an automotive paint supply company and had been in Houston setting up connections with suppliers. He was a tall older man with graying hair and a friendly outgoing personality. Even though I was half his age, we hit it off from the start.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is a stand-alone story but the characters are the same I used in my story 'Get A Room'. It's not a sequel but more another episode of the same show. Let me know what you think about it. - Rose * "What do you think you're doing, young lady?" The deep, booming voice sounded angry.

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Bethany hated Valentines day with a passion. As a child, plain and unpopular, she had resented this awful holiday which seemed to involve immature boys chasing girls with chocolates, cards and posies... every girl but her, anyway. She had grown up, and in college the guys had begun to notice her occasionally, but even then she hated Valentine's day - she saw it as a pathetic excuse for losers to try to use corny one-liners on the assumption that "the season" would make her respond. Fat chance.

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I hadn't known Briana very long, maybe six months or so. She was a pleasant young lady that recently filled a vacant spot in our departmental secretarial pool. Being somewhat outgoing and wanting to stay "in good" with the secretaries, I did my best to socialize whenever I stopped in to get my mail or with an administrative need.

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This is my entry in the 2015 Valentine's Day contest. It's much shorter and very different from last year's entry. I hope my message about love will resonate with you. All characters are over eighteen. Please vote (once) and comment if you like. * Thad crouched in the bushes, waiting for his opportunity to jump the delivery guy. Jimmy, the cool guy, called to have the roses delivered.

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