Your erotic stories

"So what do you think then?" my wife asked me. "I'm not sure. I'm don't think I'm entirely happy with the thought of another man screwing the woman I love." I replied. We were cuddling in bed having just had one of the oddest conversations in our married life so far. Cassie, my wife of the last 4 years, had initiated a discussion about fantasies by asking me if I had any unfulfilled ones.

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For nearly two months, I'd been living just about every man's dream. I'd been fucking a woman (the secretary at the radio station I work for) without ever having to meet her family, listen to her problems or any other annoying crap. It started when I discovered that our secretary, Joann, was embezzling from the company. To keep me quiet, we reached an agreement. To keep her lovely ass out of prison, she spread her legs for me whenever I wanted.

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My eighteenth birthday didn't feel very different to me. It was a Wednesday and I still had to go to school. My family wasn't going to celebrate my birthday until the weekend so I really wasn't expecting much. A senior in high school, I hadn't even gotten a date yet. The most I had done was make out a little bit with Mary Jane Kapinsky at a party. I was resigned to just another ordinary day.

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I have to admit to a stomach full of knots as I stepped off the elevator glancing up and down the hall to see which way Suite 315 was. This wasn't to be any kind of normal night and I was really second guessing why I had agreed to the invitation. It sounded pretty cool up until that moment, but I can honestly say I found myself nervous as hell as I wandered down the hall towards the door that would open up to a night I never believed I'd experience anything like.

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"Come on, I dare you!" Jack teased Hadley. The couple was walking downtown, on their way to the car after a nice dinner. They had drunk a bit of wine and it had had an effect on them. Hadley swatted at Jack's arm. "No. When I mentioned that it was my fantasy to flash someone, that's all I meant it to be – a fantasy. Nothing more, nothing less."

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I wake up late and you have already left for the day. I knew you said you had to work but expected you to at least say good bye before you went. You had asked me months ago to reserve this specific weekend for you and to make sure that I had off Thursday thru Sunday off because you had plans for me.

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You have to understand this: despite my lover's sexuality and beauty, she tends to hide her light under a bushel in public. She rarely wants her physical appearance to be the center of attention. It's a long story as to why this is so, and perhaps that's a story for another time. Suffice it to say that she reminds me of a line from the movie, Moulin Rouge:

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I hate to be the braggart except when it comes to one topic, my wife. She is the best woman that any man could ask for. She’s by far the best thing to ever happen to me. She is smart, educated and beautiful with a professional full-time career to boot. With all that, she is still shy and even a little insecure. I have witnessed her become a nervous wreck at the very thought of meeting new people when she wants to impress them. Despite her coyness, I’ve seen her intimidate men and women alike when she sets her mind to it.

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"Miss Lendell, please send in my next appointment." I stretched behind my desk wishing the stress of the day to ease up. A romantic dinner with Beth would make it all worthwhile I thought as I cleared my desk in preparation for my next new parolee. I heard my office door open and I asked them to come in and take a chair. When I looked up I froze involuntarily.

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"Reception to Tom, over." The radio on his belt squawked softly, and his friend Gina's voice beckoned to him from his reverie. "This is Tom. Go ahead, Gina, over." "Tom, I have a guest request for an unusual repair, over." "What do I need to bring up, Gina? Over." "I don't really know, Tom. Can you come to the front, please? Over." That was unusual for Gina; she's a great communicator, so it must have been something "Personal" that the guest needed.

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