Your erotic stories

I sat at my desk today and chatted over messenger. This was pretty normal for me, reaching out to those far away. You were at work today but one of the windows open was a dialogue with you. After half a day of talking about sex, non-consensual sex, resistance play and bondage you had excused yourself for some fresh air. I giggled thinking about the hard bulge you must be trying to conceal in your slacks.

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My alarm startled me awake, even though the only sound it made was the gentle vibration of my cell phone against my nightstand. It seemed every morning promptly at 9:15 I went through this ritual when it went off, causing me to nearly jump out of my skin. I reached over for the little button on the side, stopping the noise and rolled back over, snuggling deeper into the warm blankets. I heard the covers rustle slightly, and then I felt a single finger tracing patterns on the bare skin of my back.

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A few months had passed since the night Julie had been raped and forced to have sex with her son, Lance. The two of them spent considerable time following her birthday barely talking. Both embarrassed by what had transpired. And both knowing that they had been sexually fulfilled by the experience.

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Julie Davidson arrived back at her apartment block just after midnight. She paid the taxi driver and stomped towards the entrance door. She was in a foul mood. The 41-year-old divorcee had been looking forward to this night out all week. It was a rare chance to get out, dress up and enjoy herself. She had been out with her friends Louise and Pamela and after a few drinks they had all started flirting with guys, to her horror both she and Louise had ended up going after the same guy and he had brushed Julie off with a comment about not dating older women while Louise had her tongue in his ear!

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Just a few weeks ago, my next door neighbor held a party to celebrate the college graduation of their son, Alex. Alex and his family had been my neighbor for many years and so my wife and I were invited. The party began at 7pm and my wife and I walked over around 8pm. The hosts had a bar set up on their back patio and a professional bartender was mixing and serving guest.

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First, I'd like to say that I wasn't a slut. I dressed in a conservative fashion and I'd only ever been with three guys at the time it happened. Only one of them was due to too much alcohol...but I was single at least. It could be said that I was definitely sexually within the norm at the time.... It happened in my second year at Western University. It was fall and I was twenty three and supposed to be enjoying the prime years of my life. Instead I was squandering every night studying or preparing my projects for med school.

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They saw her running hard down the side of the road, passing her on their way back from their last delivery. On nice days like today, they liked to finish off their deliveries early, giving them more time to hunt for a victim. They looked at one another, and without saying a word knew exactly what to do.

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Blair looked around her new office and grinned widely. She did it. She made VP of Sales. The last quarter had been grueling, absolutely grueling. She and three other managers in the New York office had all been in the running, but everyone knew the real race for the promotion was between her and Ryan. They were the top performers for their division for the last two years, always coming in first and second. The positions flip flopped; sometimes she was first, sometimes she was second. But this time, when it mattered most, she had come out on top.

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I love being in radio. There’s always plenty of perks. Concerts or sporting events, trips, etc. But my favorite perk is our Mexican secretary, Joann. When I first began working at my current station, my first self-imposed order of duty was to find a way to get her on her back. But she appeared at the time to be a nice girl. She wanted a relationship while I simply wanted to fuck her senseless. I’ve never found an easy way to say to a woman, “I don’t really give a damn about you, I just want to fuck you whenever I want.”

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After a nearly 48 hours of non-stop sex, I barely had the strength to get home. Looking back on it, I’m amazed it didn’t kill me. How about that as a cause of death? Too much fucking. If you’ve got to go…well, I’ll spare you the cliché. When I learned the secretary at the radio station I work for had been stealing money from the owner, I saw my chance. I’d wanted to fuck her sweet Mexican body since the first time I’d met Joann three years earlier.

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