Your erotic stories

Crack. The sound slices like a steel blade through the chatter of the conference room. Heads whip around, staring at me, while I stare at the broken glass of water. The glass of water I was supposed to bring. "Well don't just stand there, clean the bloody thing up." I bend down, black pencil skirt riding up slightly as I gingerly pick up the delicate shards of glass.

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On Monday I appeared for work. There I met Denise, the secretary/paralegal who was also Ron's sister. Denise was thirty-five with long brown hair that reached her ass, a curvy figure, impressive chest, and killer legs. Her round wide round face featured large green eyes, a prominent jaw, and a large mouth with full lips.

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Sarah, getting dressed for work in her lawyer blues, decided life was not over. Just because her husband decided, at 35, that the priesthood was his real calling in life, why should her life be over? She hadn't had intercourse in three months and, while she knew about fellatio and cunnilingus, those experiences were really distant memories.

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"I wish I could've seen the look on his smug face when the verdict came down." "Yeah, girl, that must've been so nice. I mean, you won, but you also beat that douchebag." Sarah snickered as she sipped her drink. Around the table with her were her three best friends, Amy, Lisa, and Chloe, the quartet celebrating her recent victory in court.

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As I explained in my first story (My first submissive), I'm fortunate to have a high paying job at a large well known firm. While my employer is equal opportunity and all of that, even the most open minded employer wouldn't react well if they learned they had an amateur dominatrix on their senior staff.

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New Year in Singapore is warm and balmy. A little humid. It had rained during the day, and now the ground was slick and wet and puddles reflected glows from the windows of my boss's mansion in Queen Astrid Park. My boss is called Mr Wong. He insists that we all call him Edmund, a quirk he picked up overseas, but in our conservative Chinese competitive society where every sort of nicety mattered, every courtesy observed and every head bowed in greeting to a superior – well, let's just leave it at Mr Wong, shall we?

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The first time Lara laid eyes on him had been in court. She had sat on the hard bench in the back row of the public gallery and watched him give his closing arguments on a Murder One case – Matricide. A chill shot up her spine as she pondered how anyone would contemplate killing their own mother. But the vehemence with which Ross de Marco stated his client's innocence was compelling.

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If it hadn't been for that chair, I probably would never have dared to do what I did. It was a perfect chair. It was large and heavy. It was wide and shallow... My wife was a lawyer at a high powered law firm. She made four times my income. Some of my friends wondered how I felt about that. It was cool.

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