Your erotic stories

At 30, the peak of my female hormones screaming at me to do something with them other than finger my softest parts, I found myself still alone. I was afraid I wasn't beautiful enough, yet every time I looked in the mirror (other than on fat days) I thought I looked pretty good. Sexy, even. Long dark hair, pretty eyes, and a nice (though not perfect) line of curves that complimented the mild tan of my skin.

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1. A shudder runs through my body and quickly evolves into an uncontrollable shake. I couldn't turn back now even if I wanted to. Perhaps just five minutes earlier, but not anymore. Her hand is gliding over me and setting every bit of skin it touches on fire. My lust is violently taking control, and she knows it. We both know it. It is not the first time.

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The next day Salima and I were at lunch with Greg Samuels and Kate Thompson from finance discussing derivatives, equities and many other 'exciting' things. Now as important as this meeting was to my future progression within the company I honestly wasn't up to it in any way, shape or form. Salima had kept me up both in a mental and erectile state of frenzy until half 4 that very morning and I felt more like a walking corpse than a high flying corporate executive.

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"It's a girl thing," I said with a smile to the shoe salesman as I looked down at the shoes he had slipped on my feet. Spike heels, narrow straps, absolute torture but worth the pain. "Oh believe me, I completely understand," he said with a sheepish grin. I looked down at the man kneeling patiently at my feet while I admired the shoes. He was waiting for me to decide if I liked them or not, looking up at me with those big brown puppydog eyes, ready to run fetch another pair if I just said the word.

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Linda and I met in college and in my algebra class. She was 21 years old, only 17 days younger than me. She was 5'5" and quite fit. I helped her a few times with her algebra homework. Since then we became good friends and we hung out every now and then. Last Friday she came over to my house for a mellow movie night. She is usually a punctual girl, but she came half hour late and looked tired.

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It was early evening and I was sitting in front of the mirror in my bedroom. I was home from college for the first time since the semester started back in September. Looking into the mirror, I asked myself question after question, never answering what I was asking. As I sat there peering into my brown eyes, I tried to figure out who I was and who I was becoming. After taking a deep breath and closing my eyes, I opened them to once again stare into the mirror.

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Hello diary I've never kept a journal before. With the exception of my best friend,there's no one I can tell what I've done this past week. I figured this would be a perfect time to start writing things down. I think it'll make me feel better.

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Geoff Larsen, (of course that isn't his real name), is the President of Marketing. His office is located four doors down the hall from my own and, being President, his office is a corner unit making it almost twice the size of my own with a fully equipped bath complete with a whirlpool, a corner shower and a laundry chute that heads straight to the basement of the facilities where the gym is located.

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The setting sun lazily flashed and flickered off the final water jump. Caroline dug her boot heels in to goad her horse, Odyne, to complete the final jump. Before the ripples caused by the mud falling from the horses hoofs had reached the bank, she had crossed the line to what can only be described as polite, almost sympathetic applause.

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It was a warm spring night, for a dinner with friends at an upscale, trendy restaurant somewhere in the city. We both dressed a little nicer than the norm because the occasion and location demanded it. I was in a blazer, blue shirt and blue and green striped tie, but I couldn't hold a candle to how beautiful and sexy you were--a slim, shiny black cocktail dress, thin straps at the shoulders and a little lower in the front than usual. You also wore black stockings and heels. When you were getting ready, I caught a peek of my favorite black thong nestled in the front and rear of my gorgeous wife.

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