I’ve been writing these short erotica stories for a woman I’ve been talking to for a while now. She said someone else should read this so I stumbled in here. I figured it’s worth a shot. Every time I write for her I use “I” and “you”. Please let me know what you think and where I can improve. I am in no way calling myself a professional writer.
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I was in the shower washing last night off, reminiscing about everything we had done so far, and thinking about what I could do to keep the fire going. We agreed to meet up at the usual place and I told you I left a card at the front desk for you. I heard the door open as I let out a deep exhale, ready to meet you.
“Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be about another 10 minutes.” I rinsed the soap off of my body and ran the water over my head, relishing in the thought of your sexy curves waiting to be explored by my hands. I tied the towel around my waist and walked out of the bathroom. The lights were dim. You weren’t in my field of vision as I moved toward the balcony, wondering where you were. “Ahem.” The hairs on the back of my neck became stiff. Once I turned around to see you, my eyes widened and my tongue involuntarily started to lick my lips.