Your erotic stories

I unpacked my clothes and supplies in the beachside condo and walked a block to the store. It was late afternoon and I was in a beer mood. I stood in front of the cold case going back and forth, trying to decide what to get. A man and woman were standing next to me talking and laughing about the selections.

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I've had many odd jobs before in my life but this was one of the oddest and best paying. I happened across it in the newspaper ads, "Wanted: twenty something brunette to do light cleaning every weekday afternoon, uniform provided." I called the number and the lady offered me twice what I was making during my regular 9-5 job, slaving over computer files. How hard could a little cleaning be and for so few hours? I was sold!

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My name is Mark and I have a confession. I'm an attractive 35 year old man with a pretty wife and two great little kids. I have a good job, a nice house and what appears from the outside to be a perfectly normal life. But I have a secret...a hot, sexy, naughty, filthy little secret named Lizzy. Lizzy was 19 when this all started (actually she had just turned 20, but that didn't make me feel any better). She was the daughter of Tom, one of my two bosses and a guy that could ruin my life if he ever suspected that I had done anything with his gorgeous daughter.

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My sister Kathleen is a real bitch. I don't know where she got the idea that she is the center of the universe, but she acts like anything she does is the most important thing going on. Everyone has to do what she wants, and she gets all huffy when they don't.

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It was the middle of a cold December day. I sat there in my small, unclean apartment just passing the time while watching TV. I had the day off. That's usually a good thing but today it wasn't a big deal. Most people were too busy to even do anything. Christmas was only a few days away. I was alone.

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I stopped swimming through the fluffy blackness of sleep. Yup. Time to wake up. The black took on a warm, deep tone, changing from the surreal darkness of dreamland to the darkness created by closed eyelids. I lay in that darkness and smiled to myself. Life felt very good. I took a deep breath.

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I am leaving work about fifteen minutes behind everyone else. I got stuck on the phone and missed the mass exodus to the parking garage. I hate walking though the structure in the dark by myself. Even though nothing has ever happened here, I still don't feel safe. The dim lighting and confusing echoes make me nervous. I walk quickly with my head up, clutching my keys tightly in my hand.

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It had been a long day. The kind that dragged forever with traffic moving slower than usual, an uncommon streak of red lights, construction at a busy intersection, a thousand small irritations that stretched the day. I was so glad when my small car finally pulled its way into the driveway. Free of the constraints and the prolonged time of sitting cramped behind the steering wheel, I luxuriously stretch my long legs and stride to the front door and step in.

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For the first 44 years of my life, I neither had, nor had considered any sexual liaisons with anyone of the same sex. This was until the following took place: Just to give you an idea of me, I am a tall slim (but not skinny) man, with short brown hair and blue eyes. I was in the car with my wife travelling to a music festival, we were having a row. I won't bore you with what it was about (as it's not particularly relevant) but it was getting quite heated and my wife's driving was becoming more erratic.

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"Babe the reservation is for 7pm, hurry up and get ready" she snapped. I had been working a lot lately, so much so that I always seemed tired and rarely payed enough attention to her. We had only been dating a handful of months. One day while working out I had spotted her on the tread mill. With every step her body seemed to move and shake in the most perfect ways.

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