Your erotic stories

I'm a 55-year old executive working in a medium-sized corporation. One of the perks of being in top management is that I have a parking space in the lower level of our building. It's heated, private, and except for the other four executives in the company who have access, no one ever goes into the parking garage, with the exception of the cleaning crew that comes in around 6:00 in the evening...just about the time I usually leave for the day.

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It is still dark outside when your alarm goes off to wake you to get ready for work. As usual, you hit the snooze button and roll over to enjoy a few more minutes of sleep. Little do you know I woke up feeling a little frisky this morning and you won’t need that snooze button! Quietly, I sneak out of the bed and run into the bathroom for a quick visit before turning off your alarm and hopping back into bed. You are peacefully unaware of how I am going to rock your world this morning.

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"Do you remember me?" Peter Dovzhenko turned from his seat in the sand, where he'd spent the last hour watching the waves rolling onto the beach, when he heard the smoky, Slavic-accented voice of a young woman behind him. He found her standing 5'3", with dirty blonde, shoulder-length hair, her body lithe and fit like a gymnast's, her tiny, turquoise bikini covering pert little A-cup breasts just big enough to hold.

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I had read a story on a fetish porn site about a woman named Jen stopping behind after hours and taking a naughty piss over the carpet in a conference room. The author had then gone onto to describe how the woman, turned-on by her actions had gone onto experimenting by first peeing over the table in the same room before taking a piss in her manager's cup.

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I had gathered together with a group of male friends recently. We all knew each other well and had played golf that day. Over drinks afterward, someone asked the question of the group: What's the kinkiest thing you've ever done with a woman? I didn't take the question seriously, but Charlie immediately piped up with his story. When he had been about eighteen, a neighborhood lady of about 40 seduced him during his first summer home from college.

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"M...m....Melons..." My stammered exclamation hung there in the laundry room as the young woman and I stared at each other. I could not for the life of me recall her real name. She was, after all, not my son's girlfriend. If anything, she was a hanger-on, an occasional presence drinking beer or occupying a lawn chair while the boys worked on trucks. All the guys just called her "Melons" because of the balloon like breasts she so proudly paraded in front of her.

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Amber was sitting on the subway train going into the city. All seats were taken and some passengers were standing. Amber saw a young business woman, about 30 years old, standing about eight feet away facing in Amber's direction. What a stunning woman, thought Amber. She was dressed in a dark gray suit that couldn't hide the shapely body beneath it.

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Angela was a few years younger than me - well OK a good twenty. She joined our company straight from college and had other assets apart from being remarkably good at her job. She had long dark hair, perfect slim figure without being gaunt and pert young breasts that just looked perfect under anything she chose to wear. She'd been with us six months when her performance and potential were first recognised.

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Every summer holiday, I would be sent off to visit my Aunty Ellen in Bournemouth. This had been our family's tradition ever since I had turned 12, and I think it was as much for my mother's sanity as for my sake. This summer was different: I had just turned 18, and I was going into my last year of private school. What the future held, I had no idea.

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Eric sipped his drink, watching her. Amber smiled coyly at him over the rim of her glass, laughing at something one of them had said. He had been enjoying their conversation, but his thoughts kept straying to how much she'd had to drink. Eric watched with interest as she dipped her fingers into the glass of her third cocktail, trapping a cube of ice against the edge of the glass. She wasn't necessarily the most beautiful woman in the world - but there was a light in her eyes that it was impossible to ignore.

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