Your erotic stories

Ever since we'd gotten engaged, I'd been teasing my fiancé, Julie, about how much I was looking forward to my bachelor party and hinting at the wild events that would likely take place. She would usually pout, telling me I didn't need to have one. The thought of me and a few of my friends drinking and watching x-rated movies didn't bother her much, but she was afraid one of them would arrange for a stripper and things would go beyond stripping.

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I could not concentrate for the life of me today. I kept thinking about this mystery weekend that my husband planning for us that started tonight. He wouldn't tell me many of the details, other to say that we were bringing the toys and sexy lingerie, and that it would be a fantasy come true for both of us.

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I met Tracy my senior year at The University of Texas in Austin, what we all considered to be the 'real' U of T. She was a year behind me and was also a business major though she was headed to finance and I was aimed toward marketing and advertising. So, she was a numbers drone and I was a 'flack.'

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I notice her as soon as she enters the room, but then who wouldn't? She's a hot little number, about 5'4", I'd say, early thirties, all pink and blonde. Her hair falls in soft waves just below her chin and she's wearing the classic black dress that always looks so good on a someone like her.

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Karen glanced at the clock, frowned, and realized she had probably missed the director of accounting by fifteen minutes. It was 6:45 in the evening, she was hungry and stressed, and this folder of papers was promised to be on his desk before he left the building. She picked up her phone and dialed the extension of his assistant. Three rings ... four ... voicemail. No one there. She pushed the handset hard into the plastic cradle in frustration, slid her feet back into her high-heeled shoes beneath the broad oak desk and pushed up from her tall, black leather seat.

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As the car idles in front of the school, in line with all the other parents waiting to pick up their children, I take out my phone and call you. "Hi, baby," you say, the tension in your voice coming through the line clearly. "Do you need something?" "I was just about to pick up the kids and thought I'd see how your day is going and if you wanted something special for dinner. Is Michaels still breathing down your neck?"

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