Your erotic stories

Living in an apartment complex can mean that ones privacy is sometimes compromised. This is not however always a bad thing as I found out. My wife, Tiffany, and I had recently moved into a very nice 3-bed room apartment on the ground floor of a quiet complex. Our apartment was tucked away in the corner giving us almost total privacy; the exception was a similar apartment to ours with a small garden separating us.

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I began working with Ms Blake about 18 months ago. It's a fairly straightforward job, a little hectic at times, but what job isn't? Not only did I work daily for her, but there were times when I went beyond the call of duty, not that I minded that in the slightest!

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A story about a chance meeting from a while back. The young man is no longer quite as young but is much wiser. * Chapter One: Off the bus How I found myself at that bus station in Fort Wayne, Indiana is a long and not very interesting story that can be condensed in a few paragraphs.

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I often arrive at my life class quite early. By doing this it is possible to set up my easel and reserve one of my favourite positions in the studio by fastening my paper to the drawing board. Frequently there is till time to go next door into the cafeteria to buy a coffee and perhaps chat with some of the other students.

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My name is Waylon Fielding and I am married to a wonderful woman, my wife Celine Fielding. I would like to say that my life is perfect, or even good, but after two years of marriage I'm pretty freaking miserable and it's all Celine's fault. Actually, it really isn't her fault; it's her Mother's, the lovely Melissa Harmon.

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Daisy is on her way to meet a client in the hotel. Technically she's a maid, but she supplements her income by giving blowjobs to guests. Her housekeeping duties let her identify clients. She snoops around, looking for the magic recipe: only one set of (men's) clothing, porn, condoms.

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We've all done it I think, to some extent or another. Whatever name you may call it, we've all harboured a secret longing for someone, a feeling so deep within ourselves you wonder how it came to be. Call it a crush if you like, but it's more than that - a clandestine yearning, a concealed desire perhaps? Whatever! Mine was for Sarah.

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Vanessa McCall threw her purse on the couch and then checked her self on the mirror. She smiled looking at her pristine face and glanced approvingly at her voluptuous, firm breasts, which despite having an 18-year-old step-son, were delightfully full and firm. Vanessa knew that she was still a very attractive woman and she took pleasure in the flattering glances and stares of men even as young as her own son. After having admired her body for a couple of minutes Vanessa made her way to her bedroom.

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I came in the house through the garage door. I was early, about a day early. I was just about to call out, announcing my arrival home, when I heard a sound that caused me to pause. I had been out of town on business but the offers made were unacceptable and I didn't need that kind of business anyway.

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Leanne lays in bed wondering what she has gotten herself into. She thinks back to the time her husband left her so many years ago. She still hears from him now and then, but he remains gone. She has hung on to the hope he will return until recently. Leanne finally decided she needed to move on with her life, she has been alone for 7 years. She has raised the kids and sacrificed all her time to making sure they never wanted for anything in her power to give.

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