Your erotic stories

I groaned softly as I settled back at my desk, reaching down surreptitiously to massage one of my calves. "Too many trips to the copier again, Jessica?" My boss asked me sympathetically on her way by with her third cup of coffee. I heaved a deep sigh, starting to respond, but she was already back through her office door, letting it swing mostly closed as she settled in, sipping her coffee.

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Eight months of hell, that's what it's been! I don't know now why I ever accepted that job offer through the university when I graduated, other than the fact that I was a referral from the Dean's Office, an extremely rare gesture from Brender University. To give you a little background, and why I ended up in this mess, let me explain.

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Or so Annabelle thought as she sat in front of the computer, a pile of paperwork at her left, another of unanswered mail at her right. Because while all her friends were at the beach or by a pool enjoying their summer before going away to college, Annabelle was stuck in a law firm, working nine to five and missing on all the fun. Sure, the money was good and the job wasn't too bad, but still, she would love to be out there having fun with all the other people her age.

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"If this does not solve your issue Patrick. I swear to God I am going to fire you as soon as you get back." "Yes, sir." Patrick muttered as he hung up the phone. Patrick was sitting in some therapist's waiting room. He looked around at the cream-colored walls as he debated reading Newsweek. He decided against it and his mind wandered.

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Kate was a very quiet girl, and I often needed to ask her to repeat herself. She didn't really open herself up personally, so even after a few years of working together, I still didn't feel like I really knew her. That said, she was also just a little bit flirtatious, and I flirted with her whenever possible as she was absolutely gorgeous.

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I stared at my reflection in the mirror and thought to myself "how did my life come to this?" I am successful business owner, a mother of two great children, and my husband is a good man even when he is not being a total asshole. So why am I thinking of crossing the line with someone else? Why is it after all this time I am doubting my sexuality? I am 43 years old and never thought that I would be tempted by someone of the same sex. But I never intended to meet someone like her. I knew the day I meet her that there was something more behind her eyes then first perceived.

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Halloween was fast approaching and Amy could hardly wait. She and her husband Mark were hosting this year's company Halloween party. The last few parties had been great and she knew this one would be lots of fun. She worked with a great group of people, and adding in their spouses or partners there would be 24 people attending. The party was this coming Saturday night and Amy and her husband were almost done with the preparations.

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Julia pulled open the front of her black lace kimono style wrap and brought both of her hands up to her breasts. Pulling down her black lace push-up bra slightly, she began brushing her fingertips gently back and forth over her nipples, causing them to stiffen hastily. She then began pinching and pulling on both at the same time. An elegant, fine-boned woman in her late forties, she was clearly comfortable with her sexuality, as well as her own body.

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Mark's the sort of man you can't help but want to tie down and gag. He's clean shaven, nicely dressed and well mannered with slight build and quick eyes—ah, but that Mr. Brady routine is just a front. The man is actually a tightly wound ball of futile energy and repressed urges. I think he only shaves his head to keep from tearing his hair out in frustration. After a while, his manic approach to life in general makes you want to push him down, sit on his legs and scream, "BE STILL!"

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Crack. The sound slices like a steel blade through the chatter of the conference room. Heads whip around, staring at me, while I stare at the broken glass of water. The glass of water I was supposed to bring. "Well don't just stand there, clean the bloody thing up." I bend down, black pencil skirt riding up slightly as I gingerly pick up the delicate shards of glass.

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