Your erotic stories

It had been 15 years since her Harold had passed away, and Marge had gotten used to being alone. Of course, she had lady friends, and some male acquaintances, but at 66 years old, she had removed sex from her life, except the occasional fantasy about Brad Pitt or Tom Cruise. Harold had been the only man, except for a brief fling with his Best Man right after he passed. She chalked that up to grieving, and they had found comfort in each other, although he felt so guilty afterwards that they stopped it after 2 dates.

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"Well, this is something new!" I thought as I stood in front of the full length mirror for the millionth time and preened, although it wasn't exactly 'preening' more 'steady the nerves'. This was my big 'coming-out' and my friends were about to get the shock of their lives. I'd always been the respectable one, the controlled one, the smart business-like one, the boring one!

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Talk about the boot being on the other foot! Talk about the biter bitten! I never thought that I would be head-hunted, tempted – no, seduced – into leaving our Florida office, where I was top bitch, and joining a rival company in a subordinate role. But here I was. Yes, Marie la Reine d'Ecosse, former butt-buster, was now Mary Queen of Sod-all, in an office up north. The salary was better by sixty percent, the status was good, the benefits were amazing, in fact I would have had to have been insane to turn the job down.

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It was time for my annual physical, and like always, I had waited until the last minute. I was afraid this would happen, "I'm sorry, Mr. Mann, but your doctor doesn't have any appointments for physicals available until February. I can try and set you up with someone else if you don't want to wait that long."

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The sun shone blindingly, its radiance and emanating warmth serving as a deceitful mirage, a false comfort that belied the earth's frigid cold. Yet, its beauty was genuine, reminiscent of vintage holiday greeting cards. The snow sparkled with what seemed like an endless bounty of fragmented diamonds, its vast blanket spread out across pure expanses of slopes and dipping valleys, their virginity untouched by the invasive violations of civilization.

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The music was deafeningly loud; strobes flashed incessantly giving the otherwise dark room a surreal ambiance. My hips gyrated; my feet, clad in black stilettos, moved to an ethereal metallic 'techno' beat. My hands roamed oh so suggestively over my body and lingered as my finger tips cupped and caressed my breasts through a black leather top -- no more than a bra, really; not stitched, but riveted.

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On a whim Dottie had decided to accept the invitation and spend the weekend here at this beach front cottage. All the drive down she wondered and wondered if she had made the right decision but kept pushing doubts out her mind until now she was standing on the front porch.

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My wife and I were out at a bar for a night out. Away from the kids who were staying at my mothers for the night. We had been discussing various topics. Mostly how my wife, Shannon, wanted to remodel the kitchen, when there was one of those inordinately long pauses in the conversation. I looked across the table at my pretty wife and saw her take a deep breath and close her eyes for a moment. Then she said it.

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Perhaps it was the coffee. She didn't usually drink the stuff, but it had been a hectic day. Whatever, the fact was, she was having difficulty concentrating. The two prospective clients sat across her desk, the pushy one was rambling on about profits and costs of their new business. She knew she should be paying attention, but she was too distracted by the other client. Tall, where his partner was short, gaunt where the other was stocky.

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Candice sat in the corner, her foot tapping anxiously on the bar stool as butterflies performed stunning feats of acrobatics in her stomach. She watched the door as she sipped her fourth whiskey sour. Her head hurt, her heart hurt, but her resolve never wavered. In her mind, there was only one way to get even with her cheating fiancée.

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