Your erotic stories

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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Shelly put down her women's magazine with a sigh. She'd just finished another of those 'Woman Discover Thyself' stories about exploring her sexuality, and as usual, she'd been most fascinated with the part of the story where the woman explores her sexuality with another woman. She was twenty-five, married to a naval officer, very attractive and she'd still never had sex with another woman.

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On the last night of our trip to Jackson Hole, we'd headed out for dinner and some shopping in town. I ended up buying a new bikini, but little else. Tori, my girlfriend, bought a pair of hot leather pants from Hide Out. When we were done, we returned to our hotel room, took all of our stuff out of our suitcases and repacked everything for my trip home on Saturday. We had plans for the night, so we got dolled up and headed off to Teton Village.

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Dave was sweating. The sun was warm but not uncomfortably so - it felt considerably milder than the sun back in Orange - but dragging the bag along the street probably hadn't been the best idea. It was well-suited to the task but the route he had decided to take to the hostel he was booked into was rather longer in person than it had seemed on paper. As he trundled down 33rd Avenue, he espied some shady greenery which turned out to be a park.

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For Talina, college was a blast. However, some classes were a flat-out bore. Professor Dougherty's early morning Anthropology 101 defined boring. The subject matter could be dry and the professor had a terrible presentation style. She spoke in a monotone and her bland presentation of facts was often accompanied by slide after uninteresting slide. The sole appeal of the class was that virtually everyone could get a "B" with minimal effort.

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Matilda Swanson stepped off the bus into the Colorado January sun. She clutched a heavy coat purchased in St. Louis during an overnight layover. The Florida native gritted chattering teeth and cursed the cold. A breathtaking view spread out before her. Far below and miles away, her husband performed his duty as a soldier training at Fort Carson. Teaching high school art classes may have been his calling, but he loved being a medic in the Army Reserves almost as much.

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I was butt naked when I met the girl of my dreams. Yet, that was not the most unusual circumstance of that improbable introduction. She was naked as well on that fateful day, as were the twenty or thirty other people in the area. It just goes to show that there is some wisdom in the old Boy Scouts' motto: Be prepared.

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The Piper Malibu bumped and rocked as it touched down on the airstrip in the middle of nowhere. There was nothing around the 4000-foot concrete pad except a couple of hills, a whole bunch of desert and some mountains barely visible through the shimmering heat on the horizon. The plane rolled to a stop and headed straight back up the runway and aimed at one of the large hills off to the side. As the plane came closer the front half of the hill slid apart to reveal a large hanger with several smaller planes parked inside.

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The air was alive with excitement as the Southwest passenger jet left the tarmac. My older sister, Alana, and I were seated together toward the back, huge grins on our faces as we looked out the window, watching the city lights drop away. It was a red eye flight that we had booked at the last second when we learned that our scheduled flight the next day would have to face a potential delay or cancellation because of a huge winter storm that was rolling in.

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I rested my neck on the edge of the bathtub and stretched my limbs, luxuriating in the warmth of the foamy water. I surveyed the unfamiliar opulence of my surroundings and sighed with satisfaction. I had learnt on my arrival at the resort hotel in Maui where I was to stay that my confirmed reservation had been deleted by a mysterious glitch in their system and that no rooms were available. Either my panic stricken face or more probably the fact that I am a claims agent for a major marine insurance company persuaded the management to get rid of the problem by upgrading me to a beach side cottage.

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