Your erotic stories

"The Doctor will see you now Mrs. Riffin." Kathy Riffin had started seeing Doctor Davis a year ago on the recommendation of a good friend for a routine checkup. About six months ago her breasts started hurting more and more and she's been seeing the Doctor once a month to get a shot that eases the pain. "Hello Kathy. Good to see you again. How are you feeling?"

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It started out like any other day. I think it was a Tuesday in fact. I was reading the classifieds in yet another ill-fated attempt to find employment, while my boyfriend, Ryan, fooled around on the Internet. Every now and then he'd drop a random bit of web trivia on me, which often triggered a debate about the validity of said trivia.

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Jenni had come to work at my office as the payroll manager about a year ago. She was in her early thirties, married with a couple of kids. She had silky, straight brown hair, shoulder-length and cut in bangs, green eyes and wore glasses. She was hardly a great beauty, there was something about her face I found attractive.

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Chapter 1 My wife and I have maintained a few friends from college and two of them just had a baby a couple of months ago. So, we boxed up a bunch of clothes and things we had stored from when our baby was little and I took them to work, to drop them off as they live nearby my office.

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Melissa was having a pretty good day. The baby actually slept through the night. Her asshole ex-boyfriend had managed the child support check and she finally fit back into her skirts. Blouses were another story. Her breasts had been so swollen for the last few months. She had enough milk to feed two babies. Between the baby and the breast pump, she felt her tits were hanging out all day. Not that she would have minded showing them off. She loved having the new figure. Since returning from maternity leave, all the men in the building took double takes.

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Lily was annoyed when she stepped through the front door. As much as she enjoyed hanging out with her girlfriends, the constant gossip and drama was grating. Holly was by far the worst of them, and while she was fun to hang around and sweet in her own way, she wasn't above calling a friend a cow behind her back, either out of jest or spite.

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Three PM at the coffee shop last week, I saw someone I had not seen for nine years. Monet was a woman I had hired years ago to work in the shop I ran at the time. I was not the owner, but managed a gift shop on Sutter Street at Stockton in San Francisco. She and I ran the shop nights and weekends, and she was always nice to be around. At the time, we were both in our twenties, and things were good.

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I always felt I couldn't take my eyes off her whenever she fell anywhere near my line of vision. I don't know if it was her flowing dark shiny waves of soft hair, her intense dark eyes, or her full sensuous lips. Maybe the generous curves of her body. Her soft arms, large swelling breasts, the ample curve of her hips. I did know that my thoughts always became sexual in her presence, but the reality was all of this was in my mind.

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Tom was sitting in coach seat 23B, the middle seat. The seats on either side of his were empty, for now. The passengers were streaming onto the plane in that herky-jerky hurry-up-and-wait mambo that is repeated a million times a day on every flight to everywhere. As each passenger approached, Tom silently evaluated them and put them into one of two categories.

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In spite of everything, I was mostly hungry. Eight months of relentless effort led to the closure of 400 years worth of passionate murder and lifeless sleep. I had been the undoing of my siblings. My family. Four centuries of deepest love and conspiracy. And now I stood among men.

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