Your erotic stories

I had been broken up with my ex girlfriend, Erica, for over six months and both of us had moved on, or so I thought. She called me at work one fateful day and asked if she could see me, that she had something to tell me. I said okay and began to think of what the news might be. She arrived at my office right before everyone left for the day. She knocked on my door and I told her to come in.

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They had arranged the appointment a week ago. It was to be a perfectly innocent and professional eight-o'clock breakfast meeting, a chance for two of the firm's newest lawyers to get to know each other a little better before spending all day Saturday in a dreary seminar on intellectual property rights That's what they had told themselves all week, each of them trying to fend off that nag of a conscience that kept warning them that this was something more, something more dangerous.

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Jim Bluebaker was very selective about the girls that he dated. Hank, his dad told him; "Son, two things to remember in life, carefully pick a diamond for a wife, and when you have a chance to get something really important be prepared to risk everything for it".

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I smiled when I saw the house. The corner streetlight reflected on the metal numbers screwed to the front door. This was the place. I slipped through the front gate and into the garden, walking quietly around the side of the house, carrying my bag. There was a back gate, locked, but reaching over I easily found the bolt and slid it open; stepping through I closed it behind me.

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I met Kimmy when I was doing a consulting job for a downtown charitable organization. She had been assigned to be my assistant and go-to girl in case I needed her, but to be honest I rarely did. She was a pretty girl, blonde hair and startling doe-eyes. She was also a big girl, not an ounce of fat on her, I doubt, but farm-girl stocky with a broad ass and big, full breasts. She wore tight jeans and low cut tops that showed off her generous cleavage.

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Tony liked beach volleyball. Watching it, that is. Not playing it. He thought that whoever had the idea that players must wear bathing costumes was a genius. There's nothing better than watching pretty girls in small bikinis bouncing all over the place. There had been a friendly tournament running on the local beach for the past few weekends.

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The ice clinked in the empty glass as Leah fumbled to find the night stand. She'd drained the last of the brandy in one gulp. She was tired of sitting at home alone. Normally, she didn't drink alone, but she'd been angry tonight. She'd been getting to know a guy she met online and their conversations had gotten pretty deep. She'd chatted online with Xavier for a while before exchanging phone numbers.

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The girl wandering down the trail towards the Village smiled at the two outriders in the uniform of the Black Tharlarion Company as they whistled at her from atop their tharlarion mounts. A cool wind blew her long blonde hair out behind her as she walked, her sleek thigh peeking out from under her midnight blue drape as she walked, the wind blowing it farther from her leg, drawing the men's admiring looks. She added a bit of an extra shake to her soft ass, seemingly not knowing that she was walking better under the eyes of men.

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Jenny had had a normal upbringing, as a teenager she had experimented with sex, gropes in the back of cinemas and backs of cars leading to using the parental bed when her parents went on holiday, all the usual stuff that teenagers got up to. Then she packed her bags and went to college in Leeds, England and continued as a middle class girl enjoying her life. Sex was incidental to enjoyment, it was ok and she occasionally was able to orgasm with a guy, she'd even enjoyed the odd "girl on girl" experimentation with her flatmate, Jane, when there was nothing else to do.

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I had been invited by my boss to dinner at his home. Marek Jablonsky was a paunchy, well-set man in his late forties, sort of overweight, a non-nonsense character who had a constant disapproving frown on his face. He was your typical ill-bred working class lout who enjoyed making others squirm with his offending comments. He hated everyone and thought everyone was a complete asshole. And to make matters worse he was a drunk. He had a bottle of Vodka in his office and made sure that he never ran out of it. It was my job to see that he didn't.

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