Your erotic stories

Steve had thought that he'd have a quiet Saturday afternoon to himself. The house was empty. His wife had gone shopping with friends, the boys were out with their mates and Kirsty had to go to the library to complete the paper she had to write. She'd hoped not to go, but found she was missing some information at the last minute and so had to make a quick dash.

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I have watched you for hours. I have watched as you slept, watched while you bathed, watched as you raged against the hated space I keep between us. I have watched you and grinned to myself, knowing that you are completely unaware of the study I have made of you: your habits, your mood swings, your needs. You believe there is no interest there, no need, no want. Your belief is wrong. One day maybe, I will show you.

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"Fuck." Jason gulped as he pulled up to the curb outside of the rented house he shared with his best friend Ryan. He'd been on edge all day. Today was the day that Ryan's little brother was moving in. Being a senior in high school, Nick still lived with his parents, but when a job prompted them to move back to the town that all three boys grew up in, Ryan suggested that Nick live with Jason and himself so he could finish up the semester without transferring. Jason was fine with the idea of Nick living with them. He'd always liked the kid. It was just that lately he was worried that he might like him a little too much...

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Starting a new job in a new town is always filled with anxiety but after being on this job for a week my whole life changed. Hiring me to do be the inside maintenance and handy man for a very exclusive set of condominiums on the golf club was quite a step up considering the hotel work I did previously. Not to mention that I had been told, in no uncertain terms, that this was my last chance in the corporation as my attitude toward authority had not endeared me to the powers that be.

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Do you want cream with that, Mr. Brown? I've fancied my boss for ages now. I've often fantasized what it would be like to have him make love to me, to suck on his hard cock and feel him thrusting deep inside me. I've spent many a night in my apartment lying in my bed with my fingers caressing my pussy and stroking my clit, imagining the sensations of having his tongue probing the wet folds of my pussy.

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The Mediterranean sun was reaching its noon heat when the resort owners finally left their rooms on the top tier of the three floors surrounding the pool centred courtyard. As they stood looking down on the men, women, and teenage girls below they couldn't resist a thrill of excitement.

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You would think that a trip to Florence Italy for business would be the best of both worlds. A storied city full of some of the greatest art and architecture of the Western world, a myriad of options for dining, all while being paid to a job that should be easy. Notice the should, it hasn't been. Ever had one of those days when everything that can go wrong does and yet somehow you still think you might be making progress?

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It started early Sunday morning on Memorial Day weekend when I got up to get a glass of water from the kitchen. We were renting a beach house in the Outer Banks and I was really thirsty from the veggie pizza we had for dinner. I slipped out of bed and headed to the kitchen. I heard the living room TV on and assumed the two girls had come back late from their meet up with the boys they earlier teased at the beach, watched some TV and had left it on.

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Jennifer sat in the coffee house, waiting. Her hands kept touching the cup in front of her or her hair - reflexively adjusting it, stealing glances at herself in the floor to ceiling window by her table. Men walked by with furtive glances. This was new. She got her share of attention – early thirties, slim, pale blue eyes, and shoulder length auburn hair just like she wore in her early twenties.

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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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