Your erotic stories

When they started building the apartment building next door it was more an annoyance than anything else. It would take almost a year for them to complete the building after razing the smaller brownstones that now occupied the space. We overlooked four of the smaller buildings and their backyards. Not the most amazing view, but it was wide open to the skies. Our apartment was on the 11th floor.

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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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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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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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A couple of months ago my brother and I went to Houston on business. We are both in security and try to travel together whenever we can as we are also very good friends. It gives us a chance to get away from the day to day grind of our jobs and him a chance to get away from his wife and kids. He loves them to death, but everyone needs a break from time to time.

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Milla took three deep breaths as the elevator took her up to the penthouse. She knew she would have to step outside herself to do this job, way outside herself. She promised that she would be strong throughout, as this was her only choice and would be over in two weeks time.

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Mike read the terse text message from his wife Sunny. She was working late, yet again, and had texted not to ask how his day went, but to demand he take care of dinner plans. Again. A second text amended the list: feed the dog, take all the trash out and start washing her work clothes. Sunny had been a real bitch lately, and he was getting tired of dealing with it. He knew part of it was hormonal.

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