Your erotic stories

As the only secretary at the legal firm where I work, my workload was constant and I usually got to finish work on time. That was until a month ago, when a new solicitor joined the company. My workload has increased to the point where I am constantly working back. It is not uncommon for me to finish work well after 5pm. I have even had a few post 10.00pm finishes.

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I want Daddy to sit in his chair, with the paper, reading. I want him to look up, and see me on my hands and knees, my tail butt-plug deep in my ass, brushing my thighs. A cute pair of ears on my head, and the collar and tag around my neck... and nothing else on. I settle at your feet, and rest my nose against your thigh.

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I was in Chicago for a couple of days of business meetings which usually also means a couple of days of extreme boredom in the meetings and being too tired to do much afterwards. Thankfully my company put me up in a nice hotel just across from the convention hall we were meeting in so after I'd finished for the day I figured I'd stop at the hotel bar for a beer or two before going back to my room. I was just leaving the hall when I heard a woman's voice call my name. I didn't recognize the voice and figured she must be calling to someone else when I felt a hand on my arm and the same voice said, "If you're not Dave I'm going to feel very silly".

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It was almost six p.m. shift change at the small local bar that has been my hangout for many years. I seem to only get there on Sunday evenings now. I shoot pool with friends, look at the strippers and stock up on fantasies for the coming week. One lovely, married dancer named Britney was responsible for a large share of them. She always worked Sunday evenings. Her life has been in turmoil for most of the last year. Every few times I see her I help her relax and get her off with my hands in the private corner.

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Kara and I walked side-by-side down the long stone stairs away from the Court House. We and done the same thing for quite a few weekdays; she had been staying with me in my big five bedroom house for two months since David's bail was revoked for drugs and alcohol. His big, young, strong body did not swagger as much when the judge handed down seven and a half to twenty for Murder II. He had stolen my car, my deceased wife's wedding rings and killed a woman while driving under the influence.

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"Fine!" Holly yells, as she collapses onto the couch. "Fine!" Chris yells back, as he goes out the door and slams it, hard. Holly huddles on the couch, grasping a pillow to her chest, sobbing her heart out. They just had their first real fight. She can't believe what he expects from her. How dare he assume she'd just go along with his request with no regard for her feelings on the matter.

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Nanci, I know I wasn't supposed to tell you this. There is this sachet I keep with me, which will be part of the day when I'll finally meet you. I saw it being used in a movie and I plan to introduce it on the first day you'll give yourself to me. I will hide it, away from you prying eyes... on that particular day, I'll make sure we have all the time in the world, the phones will be off, the hotel room door locked, with that "Do not disturb" sign by the handle... alone, just you and me.

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Steve stood behind M, his erect dick sandwiched between her taught thighs, his hands cupping and squeezing her ample breasts as his mouth kissed and bit her neck. His penis was stiff as a board, and he was loving the smooth feeling of his cock pushing between M's thighs from behind, the juices escaping her sopping pussy making the motion glide smoothly as the pair explored each other's bodies, semi-naked on the dance floor.

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I saw Goody-goody sitting there with his head buried in a book, as we walked into my boyfriend's apartment. I called him Goody-goody, but he was really just my boyfriend's roommate. He was smart, he was shy, and he never took advantage of any of my advances. After that, he became Goody-goody and what I wanted most of all, was to corrupt him, make him bad. Like me.

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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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