Your erotic stories

The day my wife asked me about her using a strap on kind of got my attention and not really in a great way. Like most guys the thought of something like that just never entered my head. I asked her where she got the idea thinking it was the HBO series Real sex but she just told me it was something she had thought about from time to time. I think back on it and I realize she was testing the waters. She would often grab my but while I was shaving in the morning or sometimes slide a finger between my cheeks making me jump a bit in surprise.

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He had hoped that by taking a long, hot shower that he would somehow be able to shake off, or at the very least reduce, that dreadful feeling of shame that had overcome him that night, but as was to be expected — it did not. He still felt dirty and had only found that feeling getting worse and worse by the second.

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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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"Half an hour to go," I thought. We closed at six o'clock on Fridays, and I was definitely ready to go home. It had been a long week at the shoe store where I worked. Michelle, the owner, had decided to hold a big summer sale to try to boost the business. It's hard for a small boutique store to compete with the big chains, so I understood the need, but it had been a crazy week. Michelle did a good job promoting the sale.

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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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Picture me if you can, wearing nothing but a vest and boxers, handcuffed by my wrists and ankles to all four corners of Salima's luxurious 5 star hotel room bed, and blindfolded with precisely 3 pairs of her unwashed stockings. Needless to say, I've certainly looked better. At this point, I was starting to have real reservations about the woman's sanity because just who brings 2 pairs of handcuffs along with them on a business trip?

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Moving and having to transfer during your senior year of high school is quite difficult to do. I had to leave all of my friends behind and start in a new school which would be difficult for anyone but when you are pretty much just an average guy ( not an athlete or anything like that ) you pretty much just blend into the surroundings. I did have one advantage, I was a good student in a private school which made me an excellent public school student. I was getting straight A's without much effort but unfortunately in high school this makes you more popular with the teachers than with other students. Did I say unfortunately?

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For Amy Lynn Steele, it was hard not to reflect upon her current economic situation as she stood in the long line that filled every available representative of the Bureau of Unemployment Compensation. If she had not desperately needed the money, she would have vacated the building a long time ago, but the truth was, she needed the money, even if the weekly pay-out was far less than the amount she got as a Personal Assistant.

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