Your erotic stories

Part 1 After a long but uneventful flight, I arrived at the downtown Marriott in Austin, Texas, to find a spacious and comfortable room with a good view of the city. The first night I ordered dinner from the room service menu, which I was pleasantly surprised to find included southwestern cuisine, flavors that I love and don’t often have a chance to enjoy.

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Chapter 1 - A Light Bulb Moment I am Simon Ashden, and up until very recently I had never known what WAM was or that playing with your food was something that could be so much fun. That was until I met Sharon and we had discovered together that we had similar messy tastes! After her revenge session we had spent sometime playing with small quantities of food, but we both wanted to do another big session. It was a telephone call that gave me an idea and a great chance to have another major session.

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Steve had thought that he'd have a quiet Saturday afternoon to himself. The house was empty. His wife had gone shopping with friends, the boys were out with their mates and Kirsty had to go to the library to complete the paper she had to write. She'd hoped not to go, but found she was missing some information at the last minute and so had to make a quick dash.

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I had been the area manager for a group of restaurants for about five years, having been promoted through the ranks from having been a waiter as a summer job. The restaurants were pretty basic family establishments, you would know the sort where you would take your mum and dad at the weekend for an inexpensive meal.

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I stared out of my corner office, and took in the view. The view was some guy in the corner office of the next building, staring right back at me. Inspirational. How had it come to this? When did my life go wrong? I was very successful at my work. I was also very unhappy. The money was great, the hours were not. The business was interesting, the people were abominable. The prestige was a source of pride.

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It was the day before Thanksgiving. Denise was happy that the four-day school break was finally here. It had been a rough last few weeks trying to get her high school students to comprehend the World History material. She looked forward to dinner with the family the next day, and then lots of holiday shopping!

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You couldn't forget Crystal. Beautiful, tall, with long black hair, dark green eyes and a full mouth that was usually laughing at something or someone, and always painted with a startling red lipstick. Her full tits clamoured for your attention, invariably only just contained by the fabric of some immaculate designer outfit, worn with high black boots with higher heels. But the most memorable thing among the many things about Crystal was what you saw when she walked away - her broad and glorious arse.

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The pizza deliveryman had noticed the girl who ordered the Italian subs before. Her bright eyes and long raven locks were hard to miss and when he stood by her desk while she paid, it seemed that she always leaned forward a little too far. She always had a smile for him too and on more than one occasion he could have sworn that their fingers lingered when she paid him.

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Michael Richter sighed as he looked at his watch and realised he was home late, again. Alison would already be out at her fundraising thing, and the babysitter would be dressing their son Jonah, after his bath. He should have left work an hour earlier but the account manager had called him into her office just as he was leaving. Penelope was the best manager he'd ever had, and though she had a reputation for having high expectations, he figured she had every right to: she had built a strong team and worked hard to keep her people happy, knowing how important morale was to a business.

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We'd been seeing each other for about six weeks, and I thought I knew her pretty well. So when Angela called and asked for my help in putting on a party for her girlfriends I accepted immediately. Her huge smile lit up the whole room when I came over and we spent the next several hours setting the schedule of all that needed to occur.

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