Your erotic stories

Note from the Authoress: For any one who has read the Julie Journals they will know I always mention that my stories are a mixture of fact and fantasy. The content of this story is pure fantasy but the characters are fact. For that reason I have not included this as part of the Julie Journals. It is dedicated to a lovely intelligent woman and her partner who it has been a privilege to get to know.

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From the first moment I met Annie I was in lust with her. Petite with big blue eyes and curly red hair, she was a lithe little fox that dazzled most men. She was of course hopelessly out of my reach, being the girlfriend of Eddy, one of my best mates. Eddy and I played basketball together at uni and I'd been enduring his tales about his new girl for weeks.

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At 30, the peak of my female hormones screaming at me to do something with them other than finger my softest parts, I found myself still alone. I was afraid I wasn't beautiful enough, yet every time I looked in the mirror (other than on fat days) I thought I looked pretty good. Sexy, even. Long dark hair, pretty eyes, and a nice (though not perfect) line of curves that complimented the mild tan of my skin.

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The sharp rap on the door as the brass knocker banged urgently echoed down the corridor causing Jeff Lake to raise his eyes from his journal and look forlornly at the offending portal. He had just settled down to read an industry magazine, reclining back on the luxurious sofa, whiskey in hand. "God sakes! What is it now?" he muttered, putting down his glass and magazine and standing up.

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His wife bounced into the living room and announced, "They sold the Johnson's house." "'Bout time," Gary said, not even looking up from the stack of bills. "I saw the new owner," Theresa went on and hugged her husband from behind. "She's about my age, long blonde hair; she's cute too!" "Oh boy," Gary said, still not looking up. He was looking at the latest bill from her Visa credit card.

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BEEP! The cell phone in Dave's pocket sounded, indicating an incoming message. He pulled the phone out of his jacket pocket and flipped it open. The identifier on the message was his wife, Sally. It took a few seconds to load, so he knew it must be a picture message. When the picture came up on his phone, he nearly spit the mouthful of coffee across his desk in surprise.

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I was standing in the small room, in front of a curtained window. Paul's hot breath on the back of my neck was doing little to dispel the tension that was tying me in knots, even though that's exactly what we were here for. The room was pretty dreary really; just this curtained window and a padded massage table behind us against the wall. Tired paint on the walls, scruffed tiled floor and ceiling, as if men before us had been walking the ceiling and dragged across the floor, which, for all I knew, was exactly what had caused the scruffing.

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I never thought I'd have any fun at a wedding. The food is bad, the conversation is worse and the only thing to do is drink. And to make matters worse, all the available good looking females were religious. It was turning out to be a real nightmare. At least I looked good in a tux. I was wandering around, trying desperately to avoid a few people that I knew would launch into the whole "what are you doing these days" talk.

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First of all, Nathan King ruined my life. Let's start with that. I was in business school, like the good little WASP that I was. I was going to be...I don't even know. I was going to wear the good suits, though, send my interns out for my coffee and send them scattering with a look if they got my order wrong (venti non-fat iced chai tea latte, they'd murmur to themselves in fear).

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Sarah woke up to the phone ringing at 8:00am on Saturday morning. "Hello," she mumbled into the mouthpiece. "Good morning Sarah," a deep masculine voice greeted her. She immediately woke up, sitting up in bed. "Good morning Sir," she replied. She was a weekend sex slave and usually was at her Master's house by now but he had requested that she stay at home in bed until she heard from him. He had a special day planned for her and she was to await his instructions.

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