Your erotic stories

Traci and Heather were discussing whether or not Karen Cambell would show up at their five year class reunion. They could hardly believe that the 'bitch' would show up after what had happened just over three years ago. But if she did Traci had some three and a half year old pictures that would insure a memorable reunion for her classmates.

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I look at the clock. It's 8 p.m. It's a Thursday night and I'm still at the office. My report is due Friday and I've got at least 2 hours left on it. My whole team has gone home, and my interest in working for another two hours is waning. It's been a long hard week. My stomach starts to rumble. Good idea, I'll get some food. It may motivate me to get this crappy report finished.

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Dear Debbie: What is your opinion on your submissive's RIGHT to occasionally kiss your boobs? My husband is totally hot for my full, pink 36D melons, but since he became my slave,I gradually weaned him off of them. Part of the problem is, I'm not as attracted to Joel as I used to be, he's kind of chubby now, and having his hands groping me when he brushes by in the kitchen is not that pleasant. I don't mind him going down on me, but I've outlawed intercourse, especially since meeting my young lover, Emilio.

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Jenny was having a great day. During the morning shift she'd sold tons of clothes at the retail store where she had worked for the past year, and as usual received the enthusiastic praise of her boss Giulio. The sun was shining. She'd been out to lunch with her old friend Madeline for the first time in months, and they were heading back to the store side by side, chatting casually yet happily in the way you only do with really close friends.

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I watched Anne get out of her Executive's car and stride purposefully towards the hotel entrance, she was every bit the beautiful, professional, confident woman her husband, James had told me she was. She was a bit older than I was used to, I tend to like them in their mid to late twenties but for a woman over 40 she did not look bad at all as she stepped into the revolving door of the hotel and approached the reception desk.

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Her throat was burning and she found it hard to breathe. Her knees were aching from supporting her entire weight for too long on the cold tile floor. These pains were tolerable, minor even, compared to the humiliation that she had just experienced and even more painful still was knowing that she was about to endure an ever greater embarrassment.

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