Your erotic stories

"Oh God Janey, you know how I hate the blind date thing," I groaned into the phone as my best friend tried to convince me yet again to double date with her and her boyfriend Chris. "But Maia, it wouldn't really be a date. His friend Andrew is coming in from the east coast and he promised to show him around L.A., take him out and get him drunk, you know, typical guy stuff.

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"Thin" isn't a word anyone has ever used to describe me. "Beautiful" isn't either. But "sexy"? Well, that's another story. It's funny how long it takes us to come to a realization of who we really are. For me, it took just over 40 years. My whole life I'd struggled with the weight of my own expectations—always wanting to be fifteen or twenty pounds lighter, to have better cheekbones, to have my hair be a better color or my complexion a little better.

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I had my "secrets" we all have them. I guess on the one hand we are terrified we will be discovered but on the other, there is that little part of us that wants to be discovered. At least that's the way it was for me. Meeting Ms. Anders changed all that. Somehow, from that first meeting, she could see all the way through me. She could see that dark secret that I always thought was safely hidden away.

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Sarah was employed as a personal secretary to one of the directors of a London finance company. She really enjoyed her job and her boss was good to her. So good in fact that they frequently slept together. She was indeed a very "personal" secretary! Sarah was waiting in the arrivals hall at Heathrow. Her boss had been called abroad on business and he had phoned to ask her to collect a couple of Arab business men. They were employed by a very wealthy oil Sheikh in one of the Gulf States and were very important customers.

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I am trembling, my legs shaking from the force of the desire i have for You, Master, and i stand in front of You, sliding into Your arms, wrapping one arm around Your neck, my fingers stroking the hair at the back of Your head and my other hand tracing across Your cheekbones and i kiss Your chin, around Your mouth and finally Your soft lips.

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"Harder, if you like." "I don't want to hurt you." "It's all right now. Please do it." She was astride him, her eyes drawn momentarily to a small bead of perspiration running from his forehead to the grey flecks at his temple, then looking down on the finger tips tightening their grip on her nipples. At the start this would have hurt but now, with her juices flowing, she liked the added stimulation, supplementing the hardness of him inside her.

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The thought of his lips on her clit sent a buzz through her belly and up her spine -- like sexual thoughts had intoxicated her mind when she was a teenager. But she was no longer a teenager. Professor Sherry looked in the mirror in the restroom before she walked back to her class. She didn't look 40. She definitely didn't feel 40. Her palms pushed down against her pert breasts covered in her deep purple blouse.

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He poured the warm oil across her shoulders and it slid down the curve towards the small of her back, drawn to the crease over her spine. Gooseflesh rose out of pure sensual bliss. That and the thoughts that sliding oil inspired: What if his hands, now warm and large and resting over her shoulder blades, thumbs turned inward, were to continue downward, the thumbs meeting in the center, the hands coming together as her waist narrowed before....

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Surrounded by beautiful people, anyone less than breathtaking tends to blend into the wall paper. They are gods who must not be crossed, and everyone else is stupid, boring and irritating. After a few months, when I got used to being ignored and unimportant in my life's passion as I'd been ignored and unimportant in everything else, beauty just became a part of the wallpaper. They were all alike, these beautiful models, each as stupid, boring and selfish as the last.

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A trim blond with an amazing chest strutted by the glass front of my office. I watched her full breasts as they bounced with each step she took. "Molly," I called out, trying to calm the naughty thoughts that surfaced each time I saw that lovely body. The buxom blond stuck her head into my office. My eyes immediately drifted again to her ample chest. Molly has one of those chests that men dream about. Her full D-cups pushed at the fabric of her shirt, which was unbuttoned far enough to reveal a healthy amount of cleavage.

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