Your erotic stories

When she contacted me via here, she explained that she'd read my story and it had turned her on. My shameful story. The one about my desire to act as human toilet paper. In the exchange of emails that followed, Sarah told me she thought she wasn't anything special, just an ordinary lady of a certain age, a divorcee who worked in the City and right this minute was single and fancy free.

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It was a cold winter night. I was standing in my closet with a towel wrapped around my chest, drying my wet body after a shower. I stood there wondering which pajamas to wear when suddenly I felt two hands grabbing my breasts. A warm body embraced me from behind. I didn't have to turn around to figure out who it was. Her warm breath on the skin of my neck was enough to know.

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Tina arrived home to a quiet house. She knew her girlfriend Shay was home not only because her car was in the driveway, but Shay had called her at work and told her to hurry home for a surprise.

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"Paging Miss Summers. Miss Summers, please proceed to the General Office." The bleep of the PA system sent a spark of excitement – or was it relief? – through me. It was the third day of the open house for Junior Colleges, and this was the first time that I'd been beeped to meet with a student or parent.

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The bar was its usual sticky hot, the ceiling fans inadequately trying to breathe fresh air on our warm bodies. The heat lent to more trips to the bar than usual, and tonight I was really feeling the rhythm, loading up on gin and tonics, downing them in my trip from the bar's edge to the middle of the dance floor. It had been weeks since we last spoke. I missed seeing you every night at the bar, shooting the shit, staring at each other, me catching whiffs of your cologne and perspiration.

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The room was quiet. It was cluttered with clothes, text books, computer parts, and basically random crap. Bunk beds were stacked in one corner, and two college freshmen were lying awake. On the bottom bunk Mary was having a hard time falling asleep. She was wearing a tight t-shift, and sweat pants. Those being enough to keep her warm, she had kicked off her covers. She was staring up at the top bunk wondering if her roommate was asleep yet.

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Tanya knocked on the door, waiting for Erica to answer. She had butterflies in her stomach as she heard the footsteps coming closer to the door. She wasn't sure if she could, or should continue with the thing she had come here for. Erica was a lesbian, and Tanya had come here for sex. Erica had been working with Rick for six weeks. He suspected she was at least bisexual, if not fully lesbian.

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Feeling very nervous as she stood backstage with the others, Diana Watson had so many butterflies in her stomach by then that she was deathly afraid that she might throw up ay any moment. Uncomfortably squeezed into her very best dress - one that she had not worn for many years, since before a sedentary life added more than a few extra pounds to her once slender figure - Diana had to work hard to resist the impulse to run a restive hand through the hair she'd had professionally coiffed at the beauty parlor earlier that day.

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