Your erotic stories

I look at the clock. It's 8 p.m. It's a Thursday night and I'm still at the office. My report is due Friday and I've got at least 2 hours left on it. My whole team has gone home, and my interest in working for another two hours is waning. It's been a long hard week. My stomach starts to rumble. Good idea, I'll get some food. It may motivate me to get this crappy report finished.

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One day, a classmate from my Asian Arts class stopped me just after class. He invited me to a party at his fraternity. I thought about it, and since I had no other invitation, I decided to go and have a little crazy fun while I was there. You know; you're only in college once. Frat parties have not been on my list of 'must do' social events since my third semester.

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I am an eighteen year-old, just. My parents are divorced and I live with my dad. We get along well, going to football games together etc. but every now and then his work will mean he's away for a few days, which causes him to feel guilty. "Are you sure you'll be alright Jack?" he'd said looking very concerned. "I'll be fine dad", I assured him.

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- 1 - My husband Dan is an engineer—and, I strongly suspect, a sex addict. Until recently, these were separate parts of his life. Not that I'm complaining, too much, about Dan's strong libido. He's always been faithful. And he's also a willing student—and budding master—of my body. I may want sex less frequently than he, but I probably get more enjoyment from it than I deserve for my own efforts. Besides, Dan's curiosity and drive definitely keeps things interesting in our bedroom—and sometimes outside of it too!

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I watched Anne get out of her Executive's car and stride purposefully towards the hotel entrance, she was every bit the beautiful, professional, confident woman her husband, James had told me she was. She was a bit older than I was used to, I tend to like them in their mid to late twenties but for a woman over 40 she did not look bad at all as she stepped into the revolving door of the hotel and approached the reception desk.

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"Shit! Shitshhitshitshit!" Sarah quietly screamed, looking at the scrape on the back fender where she'd kissed the nearby post of the mall's underground parkade. Tears welled in her eyes. "What am I going to do?" she lamented, beginning to hyperventilate, as she considered her husband's response. She wasn't even supposed to be using his pride and joy, a maroon Carerra 4. She wouldn't have been either, except that her Audi was making weird noises.

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