Your erotic stories

This story is a continuation of Riya and Rudra. I fucked up while changing the password of my previous account Rudrdutt and so had to create another one. If anyone wants to catch up on the previous series before this please search for Riya and Rudra. I hope you will like this story.

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Adam ran into the elevator just as the doors began to close. Struggling to keep his grocery bags from getting trapped between the sliding metal, he pulled himself further in and stopped when he felt resistance on his left. "Sorry Mrs. Sipper." he could feel his face heat up as the older woman glowered at him. He sidled towards his right, making sure not to knock into her with anything else and managed to push his button without further incident.

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We had been looking forward to this Friday night all week. We had barely seen one another. We go to this little bar/pub that we love and get one of the last little tables left. We are having a great evening flirting with each other and dancing. A couple of hours in you excuse yourself to go to the washroom.

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There was definitely a noise that was unfamiliar. It wasn't a particularly loud noise but I heard it, it was coming from inside the house and it was two in the morning. I lay frozen in bed next to my sleeping wife listening but heard nothing. My heart was racing even though I was telling myself it was nothing. I turned my bedside light off and continued to listen for anything. Was someone in my house? I quietly got out of bed and walked slowly across the room trying to avoid any obstacles that may be in the way.

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PART 1 I race to a halt and stand panting outside the office. My feet are killing me. These new high heels are not made for sprinting. Gulping a few nervous breaths, I smooth down my pink top and white mini. The door is ajar but I knock anyway then take a few steps back. I look down at my fluffy pink purse swinging back and forth across my thighs as if it's as anxious as I am to get this thing over with. The door jerks open and I watch two slightly scuffed, black shoes step towards me. I dare not look up.

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Chapter 1 It was a long and tiring drive to Philadelphia. Normally, I can drive straight through from Rochester to Philly in about six hours, if the roads are clear and the weather is good. The roads weren't clear and the weather wasn't good, so it took us upwards of nine hours. Jackie and the baby slept almost the entire time, which was good in that Timmy wasn't crying and fidgeting, and bad in that I didn't have anybody to spell me.

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Okay, where the hell am I? I must have made a wrong turn somewhere... how do I get out of here? This must be an abandoned part of the hospital... nothing but empty exam rooms around here. "Hello?" I turn around and see you standing there. "Oh, hi... I think I'm lost, " I say. "I think you are too... this area is off limits, " you say, but you are smiling. You are really cute and I find myself appreciating the way your curves fill out your little nurse's uniform.

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My boss is a dick. So when he ordered me to accompany him to a meeting in LA I was less than thrilled. I'd worked at Jenner Lang for six years and five and a half of them had been great. My old boss, Rick, was a sweetheart and we got brilliantly. He was a family man with three children and a lovely, friendly wife called Darlene, who used to bring all us girls muffins and candy whenever she dropped by the office. When Rick retired we bought him and Darlene two weeks in the sun in Hawaii.

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Part 3. I went down to breakfast after a quick shower with my mind still working out some ideas. Dee and Kristen were already gone, probably at cheer practice since it was Saturday morning. As I ate my cereal, I was wondering what the range of the portal spell would be. I carefully lifted my book, and slowly pushed my finger into the portal. I could tell it was still working, but I felt nothing with my finger, even though I was in it over an inch. "Crap!" I said, as I realized she must not be wearing the same panties. I should have known that, since the girls often changed clothes 2 or 3 times a day.

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Waiting a moment in the hallway before knocking, I wiped my sweaty palms on my denim skirt—a general sense of unease is becoming a steady presence in my life, these days. Classes are just killing me; I used to be a stellar student and now I just have no motivation—Spanish is the worst. That's why I wanted to talk to Professor Chavez;

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