Your erotic stories

I had one year to go in my studies, at university, for my degree in public relations, arts, and media studies. I was starting to get a bit desperate for money. All my university bills were due. I was working part time in a coffee shop, but that had more or less stopped, since I had refused to have sex with the owner, even though he offered to pay me 200 dollars. I just did not fancy his big fat sweaty body on mine, and I knew he would want more and more if I agreed.

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"Holy shit." I said it out loud, and stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, mid-step, staring at the picture on my phone. "He's...hot." I scrolled the picture on the screen, increasing the size to get a closer look, noting it was a scan from the back of a book. "Oh, that's right," I thought, "He's a writer." He was definitely hot, for a guy the age of my parents. He had a thin nose and high forehead, dark eyes with fine lines at the corners, and dark hair that fell around his face in waves.

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Ursula almost remembered the dream that night. The alarm shattered most of it; even as she was waking up, the strident buzzing noise crashed through the memories, leaving nothing but fragments. She grasped at them, trying to hang onto something, anything at all. There was a hand, she knew, a hand sliding down the swell of her hip and...and a taste like wet rubber...no good. It was gone. Ursula hit the snooze button, but the dream didn't come back.

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It was one of those nights again, chilling here with him and watching T.V. We just got done laughing about how stupid high school was, but how we sort of already miss it. Best friend the whole way through. Him and I just always had the greatest times together, although most of it was over Xbox Live. Most of our laughs, inside jokes, and stories all were over Xbox. We'd just finished watching The Avengers. I love superheros, and the comics along with them. Okay, okay, yeah. I'm that girl.

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Sandals flopped against her feet as she charged down the sidewalk. A few heads turned, noticing her slightly disheveled clothing and the flush spread across her cheeks. A tight t-shirt was shifted to the side, thrown on in a hurry. Her white jean shorts were left unbuttoned, barely clinging to sweaty hips as she walked.

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Miss Annabelle Nella was a high school teacher who really enjoyed her job and loved teaching her senior class. It was, for her, great to give all the students one last piece of education before sending them off to college, where many she hoped, would make something of themselves and enter the real world off to a great start.

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We were in the middle of a meeting of the Auditorium staff when someone, Bill I think, came up with the idea to have one or more of us show up during an event and actually ask the people watching the event. We had been brain storming to come up with an idea to get people to tell us how to improve the service we were providing for people. One person thought we should change the name from Auditorium to Event Center, and advertise more of the type of events happening there.

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"What's this?!" Harlan said to himself. "Lorraine's the last person I expected to run into tonight. She's married! At least, she was the last time we talked. And, who's that cute, little redhead sitting next to her?" Harlan had never cruised the city's cougar dens to pick up women. Life was complicated enough with his job and the girls he was already dating.

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I first saw her as she walked from her car towards the supermarket. She was hard to miss, especially in broad daylight. I was parked two rows away and she walked into the Harris Teeter store about twenty steps ahead of me, her tight ass swaying back and forth in her tiny, designer-label jean miniskirt.

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My warmest and deepest thanks to LadyM12 for her constructive comments as well as her efforts in editing this document. "Are you Mr Williams? I think I'm expected." Martin Williams looked up from his desk to see a rather tall, long-legged blond standing in the doorway. She was about 5 feet 11 inches tall, with long hair past her shoulders. Probably 36-24-38, but the jacket hid the true size of her waist.

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