Your erotic stories

Paul could not believe what he was hearing. After 4 years of service, he had believed himself to be an asset to the company. His boss, Richard, now sitting there, spewing the company line, had become a good pal. Yet, here it was.

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The night started out like any other night at the restaurant. I was making a killing in tips, thanks to my abundant flirting. I could only guess that my 21 year old body wrapped in the uniform didn't hurt either. The uniform was the traditional tight white shirt and the orange shorts. We were also required to wear pantyhose and sneakers to complete the look.

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"I cannot stand Cynthia and her more virginal than you attitude," announced Amelia, looking over at where the offender was currently flirting with a couple of boys. "I know what you mean," grumbled Marie. "The way she acts we're all sluts because we're not virgins. Just because we're not virgins doesn't mean we're free and easy. Or that we had any choice in the matter, anyway."

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She'd had too much to drink. She knew that, but how could she decline an offer from an old friend, especially one that had been friends with her and her husband when he was still living. Grace had been a widow for nearly a year, spending most of which trying to keep it together after losing a husband she had adored and at far too young an age. She was now a 32 year old widow with no kids and trying to readjust her life. This had been the first night she'd made herself accept an offer from a friend to go out to a bar.

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Sydney Mason was one top-notch businesswoman. She was a Public Relations executive for Minova Corp and did her job very well. Indeed, Sydney had always excelled wherever she went. The attractive 31-year old had a reputation for success. Sydney had a shapely figure and a 34-C bust that she prominently displayed with tight clothing. She was tall, standing almost 5-8, and usually wore heals to add an inch or two. Her hair was died platinum blond.

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She lay in the silent darkness and listened hard. Listened for any sound of movement, she could feel her ears straining into the silence reaching for even a whisper and found nothing but her own breathing and heartbeat. How long had she waited? He had said not to move, not to try and leave, not to cry out for at least 15 minutes after he left. Had it been that? It seemed it had been hours, days even.

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It was a sunny Saturday afternoon and I was at home doing nothing, and doing it quite well. I was sitting back on the couch, idling watching the TV, and enjoying a quiet beer. That's when Cathy showed up. Cathy is a friend of my daughter, Christy. They've been best friends for years and are always hanging out together.

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It wasn't auspicious for a relationship; he wasn't quite...right. Not that there was anything wrong with him per se, because there wasn't. We had met online through one of those dating apps; he was sweet and funny and intelligent. Normally he would have been perfect, but I needed something...more.

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The whole thing was Margaret's idea, not mine. You could say I was more a reluctant victim rather than an eager participant. It was late spring and the weather was warming up nicely. Still too cold to go to the beach in my opinion, but it wouldn't be long. It was a Saturday afternoon, reasonably warm, and Margaret came around with her bright idea. She wanted to go to the beach and get an early start on a suntan.

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Erin sighed as sunlight spilled over her face. Winter always seemed to last too long. Autumn was her favorite season but nothing compared to the first warm rays of spring. The thump of the front door roused her from her languorous state. "Hey mom, I'm home," called Jacob's familiar voice. "I'm in the kitchen."

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