Your erotic stories

It started on a mate's stag night/bachelor party, - whatever you know a bloke's traditional booze-up before his wedding as. A crowd of us hit the town, crawled the bars and eventually ended up at a lapdancing club, ahem, as you do. . . A good time was had by all, plenty of dances were bought, and the general agreement was what goes on the stag, stays on the stag.

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It had been a rough week. Fighting with the wife had made my night life quite quiet. To top it all off she had decided to go and visit her mother for the weekend. She must have been really pissed off as she told our daughter that she could have one of her college friends spend the night. I wasn't really impressed as I was now responsible for the two of them and all their miscreant behaviors.

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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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I don't know why I did it. Okay, that's a lie, do I know, at least I think I do. First of all, it's fun to be seen as a sex symbol. Not as a porn star, hell no. I'm not a slut. Okay, maybe a wanna-be slut, but I'm a good girl. I didn't go to a Catholic school, but I was raised Catholic and I still believe most of it, okay?

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My friend Marie has always been the kind of girl who caused trouble. You know the type. The one who flirts with sleazy guys she has no intention of bringing home, sometimes for the attention, and sometimes because she's just bored. The girl who wheedles you into doing just one more shot even though you know you've had your limit. The one who tells you that you totally don't look slutty in that dress, and tells you that you should probably shimmy the neckline down a little to show a little bit more cleavage.

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Lori dreamed about Amber again that night. In her dream, she didn't feel afraid at all. Amber was sitting on the edge of the dock in the warm afternoon sunlight, looking like she could inspire an entire Renaissance all by herself, and Lori walked up and sat down next to her like it was the most natural thing in the world.

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Twins hate being out of synch, like when one of us is upset and the other isn't, and that was the mood as I drove to Uncle Joe's shack. I was in a funk about losing an argument that should have never included me. Now, I was stuck spending an overnight in woods without internet because Robin wanted to play house with her friends.

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After that little Halloween incident with my gynecologist, Dr. Markus DeShade and his band of kinky cohorts, he has been exceptionally nice to me. So has his wife Evelyn, although I think her interest is more on the Sapphic side. Tall, good-looking women tend to become attracted to me, as was the case with my German friend, Eva Reichman (see Cat's Discovery).

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When my fiancé and I graduated from college, times were tough. There wasn't a single employer that was hiring. For a while I waited tables as we struggled to pay basic bills. After putting in hundreds of applications, I finally received an invitation for an interview from a company called QJ Productions.

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Julia pulled open the front of her black lace kimono style wrap and brought both of her hands up to her breasts. Pulling down her black lace push-up bra slightly, she began brushing her fingertips gently back and forth over her nipples, causing them to stiffen hastily. She then began pinching and pulling on both at the same time. An elegant, fine-boned woman in her late forties, she was clearly comfortable with her sexuality, as well as her own body.

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