Your erotic stories

A beautiful, outraged, and thirty-nine year old brunette with an elfin face, full lips, clean white skin that dove past her neck into an ample vertical line of cleavage, and authentic silk stockings – the seams of which climbed upward in a perfectly straight line from her trim ankles to disappear under the hem of her professional, side-slit skirt – swept down the long, richly carpeted corridor of the sixty-ninth floor like a small tornado, sweeping a cheap imitation dynasty pitcher from an expensive walnut sidetable with a vicious blow from her open hand and pausing not at all as it cracked like an egg on the plastered wall and tumbled to the floor.

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It was my good friend, Kara's boyfriend's birthday and a big group of us were heading out for a night on the town. I didn't really know her boyfriend, Levi, very well but I was in dire need of a night out. Before running out the door for my taxi, I gave myself a once over. I'd gone for a short black skirt, with a black scoop neck top that showed off my ample cleavage. I also had black, silk stockings on as it was a bit cold with black ankle boots. I looked pretty, damned good if I didn't say so myself.

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I had just received promotion and was now in a much more senior position. I'd worked my butt of to get this promotion. Mind you, I'm well aware that some people have implied that I'm a back-stabbing bitch, but they're the losers. You have to be ruthless to get ahead in this world. Business is a dog eat dog world and this bitch is quite capable of taking her share and fending off challengers.

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"My ass is virgin," Eden had told me on our first date. A simple statement, quite out of place for an average date. A statement that might have meant "but you can fuck my cunt all you want, I'm a slut" or "I'm saving it for the right guy - is that you?" Or both? I certainly took it as a challenge, because I was ready to be somebody's Mr. Right, and I had a bit of a soft spot for sluts. I had married one, after all.

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Candace punched the button for the elevator with mixed feelings. She was already running fifteen minutes late, and if she didn't make up the time somewhere, she'd be late meeting Jeff. Usually she arranged her day to allow herself an extra twenty minutes to walk up and down the stairs from her 40th floor office, to avoid suffering through an anxiety-filled ride in the express elevator.

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It's a crowded elevator, in one of those interminably tall city buildings, and you, of course, work very near the top floor. You're being squished between crowds of people. A wonderful start to the day, you think. Suddenly, you feel it. There, again! Definitely more than just accidental contact. A pair of hands is stroking your ass through your skirt. You'd normally be offended, but the contact feels so good, strong, yet tender.

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Browsing around the adult store, I looked at everything as though I hadn't seen it all for the hundredth time. This was my favorite pastime whenever I was in the city and early for an appointment. I loved all the different sized dildos with their dazzling colors and features. I picked one up and felt it, running my hand up and down the thick, veined trunk and feeling instantly excited.

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I had talked myself into a job I was in no way qualified for, and, as the first order of business, I got sent halfway across the country and landed in a hotel in downtown Chicago. I looked around my room, a room that teetered on the border between blandness and overwrought luxury, and decided that I should stop watching Sportscenter, and go find some dinner.

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If there's one thing I hate more than school in summertime it's job hunting. I fully admit I'm not the best at interviews, I get nervous, I get anxious, even when it's not really a job I even want I still have an uncanny knack of blowing it. I'd been looking around for something other than mind numbing temp work for sometime but hadn't had much success. Not being in my own country didn't help my prospects either.

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"Paging Miss Summers. Miss Summers, please proceed to the General Office." The bleep of the PA system sent a spark of excitement – or was it relief? – through me. It was the third day of the open house for Junior Colleges, and this was the first time that I'd been beeped to meet with a student or parent.

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