I arrived half hour early. You answered the door with a towel wrapped round you. The water on your shoulders glistening in the sunshine and small bubbles from the bubble bath ran down the soft V of your breasts. Your face was a soft pink, was it from the bath or did I catch you playing!?

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.

The guys had arrived to do my garden – they must have been sent by the landscaping company. I saw 5 of them get out of the truck and go around the back. It was a hot day and they were all bare chested. One of two had tattoos on their arms …mmmm. There were a couple of really good looking young guys – I had beautifully etched muscles in his arms and chest and some low slung jeans which allowed me to glimpse the lines of the V which led down to his crotch. They didn’t know I was watching them – probably assumed I was out.

She never did anything by convention, Sally thought. Standing in front of the full-length mirror in her hotel room she admired the wedding dress. The too-tight strapless bustier across her boobs, the flowing satin train and the tiny white flowers set in her mousy hair. White satin shoes and a small fragrant bouquet. After they’d finished helping her, she’d sent Anna and Paula, her bridesmaids, ahead to the church. She’d manage on her own from now until the car arrived.

It goes without saying, in order to look the part so as to snare the apple of one’s eye or radiate appeal, one needs to purchase the right attire. Money here, money there and while one doesn’t have to be a millionaire, one does need a decent pair of shoes, nice lingerie and these things, feature their own price tags.

The fancy name of Xavier didn't surprise her. His title was also typical of those of his profession, if it could be called that. Each day she saw him walk out into the yard, and depending on the weather, some days were more enticing than others were. Sylvia dreaded her first real teaching placement. St Johns College wasn’t an ordinary secondary school, it was one of the most prestigious. After spending the better part of three years as a casual relief teacher, she felt relieved that she finally found her path and then along came Xavier to rumble her idyllic calm.

Fate decided to have her way, and only Fate can be such a cow so as to combine a sweltering day with broken down office air conditioning among other things that I won’t go into right now. The heavy metal within the thermometer, I suspected, began to quiver and I, seated in front of my flickering monitor sighed and felt relieved that the long hand on the clock finally squeezed past five o’ clock mark. A couple of minutes before, I pressed enter and sent yet another email as the Darkness sang something to the tune of buying a one way ticket to hell and back.

I have fallen for a guy at work. He makes my blood pump so hard and I want him to touch me and I want to rub against him like a cat. I feel like such a slut when I'm looking at him and I know my desperation is showing.

“Damnit!” Catherine exclaimed as the wrench slipped and her knuckles scraped violently across the faucet handles. She dropped the heavy silver tool into the sink with a loud clang as she recoiled. Her hand drew up, curled and hiding the hurt. With the other she gently eased open her fingers. She stared down at the torn flesh across her knuckles and brought them to her lips.

The sun was pouring through the closed curtains and the candles I had lit earlier were filling the room with a heady spicy scent. I suppose you could call it the aroma of sex.

You in a summer dress, an open top vintage car with one of those horns where you have to squeeze the black bit. A picnic hamper filled with Champagne, two glasses, strawberries, a summer fruit pudding, delicate sandwiches and some chocolate sauce. We could drive into the country find a remote spot in the sun, with a clear cool lake just below us.

Today was one of those days where I really wanted to lie in bed with someone. For some reason, the space inside my upper thighs felt especially naked, especially empty without someone’s hands to touch them. I craved fingers running reconnaissance missions, exploring the territory before the tongue could take its turn.

I felt so horny from the moment I woke. I couldn't wait for the kids to go to school because I knew I would have some time to myself. My pussy felt wet as I thought of things I could do to myself. My mind raced with excitement but time seemed to drag and it seemed like an ae before the kids finally said 'Bye Mum see you tonight'.

"Aaargh, here we go again", he said picking the phone up to speak to the boss this time. She cleared a space on the desk and hoisted herself up onto it, hitching her knee length skirt up a bit as she did so. She managed to manoevour herself and his chair so that she was sitting facing him, and then lifted her legs to put her feet on the arms of his chair.

She pulled his spare key out of her bag and quietly unlocked the door. Inside she paused to listen, and to slip off her thong. She could hear the keyboard clicking in the room he used as his office and tiptoed down the hall to the door. He looked up in surprise as she entered, a look of surprise that quickly widened into a smile. "I decided to take a lunch break" she said, answering the questioning look on his face.

The letter reads "Meet me at Motel 6 room number 12 at 9:30pm sharp. The door will be open. I'll be waiting."

The morning was a balmy one. The Dryad had woken up from her sleep amongst the branches of the trees. Birds flew past her leafy hair and fluttered around her ears "What a day to walk in the morning" they sang. The Dryad listened whilst stretching out each limb. Then with a flex of her supple body she sprang to the ground. The sun lit up the contours of her willowy body, and the woodland saw her. Like a leaf from the tree where she lived, she flitted along the glades, floating from shadow to shadow. The bracken caressed her legs as she ran; branches curled around lovely breasts and white thighs. The woods did not want her to leave them.

Hi,
I am 22 years old and I have been with my boyfriend for 2 and a half years now! My problem is that I have never reached an orgasm without thinking of something: like imagining other people having sex! I would so much like to reach an orgasm just thinking about nothing or just about my boyfriend.
It is not that I don’t enjoy sex with him but I feel like I’m deceiving him because I think of something different. I often tried to relax and not think of anything. There was just one sentence that came into my mind: “You won’t do it!” Then I think of a scene from some movie to get this thought out of my head and I often reach a great orgasm! It’s also like this when I’m masturbating. It just doesn’t turn me on enough to think of something happening with me. This makes me very sad.

It was just another boring day, muesli for breakfast, shopping at 12:00 then back home to wait for the new dishwasher to be delivered.

As she sat at her desk, Sally felt restless with her job and craved some excitment. She was so fed up with the same routine, the getting into her mundane office job at 9am, fiddling with something on the computer, pretending to care about it, but really her mind straying to life on a better level. It wasn't that she thought that every office job was below her talent, it was just this office job. It never changed and idle gossip would fly round the office like wildfire because they had nothing better to talk about.