I smoothed my skirt down nervously as I sat waiting in my car. We’d planned to meet at 12.30 and I was a few minutes early. I hadn’t seen you in six months – not since the day you left the company. We’d chatted plenty on MSN but you’d offered to take me out to lunch for my birthday – way too good an opportunity to pass up! We’d had a long, flirtatious conversation about what we’d be wearing today and I hoped you’d be in jeans as we agreed. You know I can’t resist your arse in jeans – I’ve told you so often enough.

She dropped another marshmallow into the saucepan. It was his favourite concoction of hers – a thick gloopy drink of melted dark chocolate and marshmallows with some cherry liquor. He came up behind her, grabbed her shoulders with his large firm hands and kissed her soft neck. A tingle went up the back of her spine as his soft lips nuzzled her and his hands slipped round to gently massage her breasts. She turned off the hob and closed her eyes as she put her hands behind her back to unbuckle his belt and teasingly stroke his belly button.

The scorching afternoon light shines through the sleek venetian blinds in my bedroom. “I’m just going to have a cool rinse”, I tell Ed, sliding my thin cotton dress up over my head, slipping my knickers down my legs and giving them a little kick on to the cold bathroom tiles. On this hot, hot, 40 degree day, the cool droplets make me shiver with delight, flowing over my full breasts, over my stomach and between my legs.

My outfit was carefully selected, It needed to make an impact, it needed to say something about my strength of character and it needed to send a message direct to your loins. It did.

You know I dream about you. You also know how I can’t help playing with myself upon waking from these vivid dreams of you, anything to escape this prison of frustration from not having you.

It is Sunday afternoon and I am lying naked on your bed after an argument regarding your feelings for a certain other woman. You walk in, and thinking that I am asleep, stand looking at me for a few minutes before stripping off and coming to lie on top of me. You know that I like this, your heat and strength overpowering me, your cock hardening between my legs…

Jon’s PA let me into the room.
‘I’ll be next door if you need me. Use the emergency pager on the table. I have my own key so you can lock the door if you want. Just make sure the mobile is within reach before you go OK?’ He smiled and said ‘Have fun’ before going to his room next door. I let the door fall on the latch and walked through into the main room. Jon was sitting on the chair grinning.

“You coming for a hack?” she asked, car keys in hand.

“Nah, thanks Judy,” I replied. “I reckon I’ll just stay here with Orson Welles, if you don’t mind.” The biography lay on the long stripped oak table next to my morning coffee.

“OK, suit yourself” she huffed, off-handily. “Anyway, see you round one-ish for lunch. Byeee!”

I heard the door of the Range Rover slam and the hush-crush of tyres against gravel. The director mocked me from the dust jacket.

The evening had been planned for quite a while. The restaurant gets booked weeks in advance and I didn’t want to take any chances as it was Sue’s birthday.

An invite from old university friend Judy to spend the weekend in the Cotswolds, play catch up, reminisce and be mates again was turning into a monumental disaster. From picking me up from the London train, I knew immediately that I’d completely fucked up my weekend – and probably hers too.

Have you ever been kissed? I mean really kissed? Treated as though you're a delicious dessert to be savoured. Lips hovering over your throat; hot breath making all your hairs stand on end with the anticipation of being touched. Then finally the fleeting touch of soft skin against yours, a tongue tasting you, and then it's gone again. Only to reappear lower down... hands caressing your back, softly, but surely. Those hands know where they want to go, but for now they decently remain on your back, shoulders, in your hair, tugging it so your throat is exposed. Teeth graze your skin. You feel as though you're sinking into an abyss. If you were standing, your knees would buckle.

This episode actually happened. It’s something that brings me out in goose bumps when I think about it, and I fantasise about it quite often. It concerns me and my boyfriend (whom I shall call Mr X), and at the time, we were ‘on a break’. Every bloke I met during that period made me realise just what I was missing - no one was as cool or made me laugh like Mr X did. The one night stand I had wasn’t a patch on Mr X and instead of making my ego soar, that bloke succeeded in making me feel like an oversexed whore. Mr X and I had started talking and seen each other a few times, which had ended up with us all over each other.

I met Jack online about two years ago. He basically was on the Admin Team at a forum that I freelanced for. We had talked a lot and a few times he had personal chats on Messenger, sent a few photos and so on. But he got so intimate, that I pulled the plug and we became friends. But something kept making me come back to the flirting antic.

Ethan ran upstairs to his bedroom to get dressed. He put on a pair of boxer shorts. His thing was not as hard as before, but it hung out the left leg of his shorts. He put on his jeans and looked at himself in the mirror. His thing clearly stood out against his left leg. He sighed and took the jeans off.

I'd seen him before. We'd exchanged looks over our coffee cups but that was it. Today was to be no exception- or so I thought. I took a gulp of coffee and managed to catch his eye as i ran my tongue over my lips to catch the last drops of milky beverage. He stopped, watching my every move and i stopped licking and started nibbling my bottom lip. God - he was so hot!

I was on the mezzanine in the store room and froze when I heard the door open below. I shouldn’t have been there but had found it a useful place to skive when the shift was dragging, finding myself a pile of towels to sit on while I texted friends or read a magazine or even have a quick nap occasionally. Miss Connah always asked where I’d been and I always said the same thing, helping a client in the spa since I knew it was the only place where her all seeing cameras didn’t reach and she couldn’t deny it.

He looked up and took his sunglasses off for a moment. I couldn't be certain, but I felt sure that he had seen me. The sun was beating down upon his tanned body. He looked fantastic and I had been teasing myself all day with thoughts of the things he could do to me.

They’d always had some sort of chemistry, a kind of connection. You could even say some kind of lust for each other, since they first met. Every date they’d had since then, they went a little farther, wanted each other a little more than the last time. The first few weeks she thought maybe she just wanted him so badly she thought it was love…but as time wore on, she was proved wrong.
Being around him, this environment, even her newer friends, was changing her. She stopped playing guitar. She loved going to raves, just because of the music.

She lay on her sunlounger, brown body contained within a black and white bikini stretched taut over her soft skin. It was a kind of fifties style bikini that complemented her voluptuous figure perfectly, evoking those old films were women were truly women and breasts were abundant and appreciated.