Your erotic stories

I rested my head in my hands as I stared up at the clock. "3:48?" I muttered in disgust. I was twelve minutes away from beginning my weekend, but it seemed as though time was grinding to a halt. I had finished with my last client an hour earlier and was simply waiting out the rest of my shift. I groaned again and looked out over the gym. To further my disappointment there were not even any half decent women to look at.

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I am probably the most typical white guy in America. 31 years old, married for 4 years, with a two year old kid and obsessed with sex. I can't help it. I want to kiss, lick and suck pussy. I want to bury my face in big, firm but soft mounds of breasts. I want to breathe in the mixed aroma between her legs of pussy and ass before I slowly drag my tongue from asshole to clit. I want her to do the same to me- but now I'm dreaming and this is a true story so I'll stick to the facts.

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When you have someone like Anne working for you, it's pretty easy going to work everyday. Not only is she a top-notch assistant but she's absolutely beautiful and best of all, I get the pleasure of fucking her whenever the opportunity presents itself. I first fucked Anne last fall when I took her on a business trip. The original plan was for it to be a one time thing because at the time I had this silly rule of what goes on out of town stays out of town. In fact that's the name of the story describing our first encounter.

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Summer vacation was winding down fast, taking with it the last vestiges of freedom that my sisters and I had been so thoroughly enjoying. All too soon, I would be starting my senior year in high school and it would be back to dull grind of boring routine. "Samuel T. Young, you need a haircut, young man!"

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It's an unusual day in many ways. For a start I've got the day off work and have the entire day to myself. It is very unusual for me to take time off work, but I have just been on a long business trip and did not arrive home until the early hours of the morning. I sent a text to my boss when I got home informing him that I would not be in work today.

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It started with an anonymous note: 'Frank, Dan has been seen with your wife. Check it out.' That was all it said. Did I need any more? Proof of my own, sure. I work for a large corporate retail conglomerate. I'm VP of Distribution. Dan works in the same company as a regional manager who happens to be based out of the same corporate headquarters for the local chain. He's a boss of smaller bosses, but he wasn't my boss. Dan is a hot-headed Mexican with a lot of piss and vinegar on an upwardly mobile track of well-earned success.

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After a long hard and frustrating day at the office, I often enjoy stopping by the local pub to cool my frustrations. Today it didn't work. The phone had rung non stop for what seemed like an eternity. Every call was someone bitching about this or bitching about that. So to say the least my frustration level was at its peak. All I really wanted to do was tell them all where to go.

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When I met Tammy she had two kids, Cindy, fourteen and Thomas, five. Tammy was married to Thomas' father, John. They'd been together for six years. I have no idea how they made it that long. She despised the guy, hated him from the very start. She got together with him on account of his dick. Apparently, the guy was hung like a regular horse. And he had money. The Roth family lived under a cloud of recriminations, always short of all-out violence.

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It was my fault, I'm sure. I was preoccupied and I was piloting the shopping cart very poorly so it's no surprise I bumped into somebody. I clipped her cart with a bit of a jolt which brought me out of my distraction in a hurry. "Sorry! Sorry, that was my fault." She gave me a smile, a sweet, forgiving thing that was a tiny ray of sunshine in my personally overcast day.

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Sebastian could tell that she was upset, but was not quite sure if he should attempt to console her, or for that matter, exactly how he would go about approaching her with an offer of comfort. He had seen the despondent expression she had been wearing on her face all night and thought that she looked like she might be about to cry when she excused herself from the table and left the banquet hall to go upstairs to her hotel room. He had quickly said goodnight to his dining companions at the next table and followed her to the lobby, not totally sure of what he was intending to do if, and when, he caught up with her.

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