Your erotic stories

Paul exited his office heading toward the mail room, as he stepped into the room he ran directly into a young lady heading out. With a slight screech the poor girl landed flat on her butt. "Oh my god," Paul said with concern, reaching down to help her up. "Are you alright?" As he bent to take her hand, his eyes diverted to her legs, down to her sandaled feet and up to the sight of her panty clad pussy, then back down her legs to her pretty little feet and painted toenails.

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"Here we are -- home, sweet home," announced Amber as the car pulled up out the front of a battered old caravan down the far end of the park. "Looks great," I said, getting out of the back seat. "Homely. Looks like it hardly would leak at all in a storm."

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As a full-time student at the state university's city campus, I've found a part-time job to supplement my student loan and make ends meet. Nothing unusual about that, quite a few of my classmates work at least one job; but when I tell people the job is in a donut shop, they'll invariably smile and tell me I'm lucky. I agree with them about being lucky but not for the reasons they think.

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As the first pot of Monday morning coffee brewed, its rich fragrance floated heavily through the stale air of the office. Juliana, an experienced twenty-eight year old customer service rep enjoyed coming into work nearly a half hour earlier than anyone else. This was her private time -- her chance to catch up on emails, reports, and any actual work before her day started and her mind drifted to topics other than work.

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My job is something most people wouldn't understand. I am in stress management. Companies call me in when the stress level of their employees becomes an issue. I am happy with my job. I make lots of money and enjoy what I do. Today I am dressed in black thigh highs, a tight black skirt and a very low cut red sweater that clings in all the right places. My hair is in a French twist, my makeup applied perfectly. I smile at myself in the mirror as I turn and get ready to leave.

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My dad was always working hard to give me what I wanted and needed. Since my mom died he'd been overly protective but super nice. Every summer since I got into high school, I would work at his tiny little taco shop around the corner from our house. It was very successful and every summer dad was opening up a new one. He still left me working at the old shop with the men I called uncles. I was always a skinny little kid and half the time people confused me for a boy.

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