Your erotic stories

I enjoy working late. I am a transcriptionist, and can get more done when the hub-bub of a packed law office has quieted. One thing though, this old office building is about as tightly insulated as a bridge, and creaks as badly as my forty-mumble year old knees. I find myself getting up from my desk at least once an hour to see if somehow an earthquake hasn't hit, as my geology professor called it, the Laurentian Plateau.

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Each year they swept in, families of various sizes and ages from across the world. They came from the snow swept regions down to the tropics. Families came every year, looking for fun in the sun and to escape the cold winter season. I lived and worked in Aruba and enjoyed life here. The people of the island were tolerant and open minded.

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Anne was the typical all-American girl. She was smart with a sassy attitude. Her mother had raised to be a career driven woman, and she became just that. It wasn't long until she moved off to San Francisco in pursuit of a good education.

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I don't know why I did it. Okay, that's a lie, do I know, at least I think I do. First of all, it's fun to be seen as a sex symbol. Not as a porn star, hell no. I'm not a slut. Okay, maybe a wanna-be slut, but I'm a good girl. I didn't go to a Catholic school, but I was raised Catholic and I still believe most of it, okay?

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My Name is Karen. I'm going to relate to you the events that occurred during my summer vacation in 1997. I was 20 years old at the time. I had an experience with a woman who frightened me and it affected the rest of my life. Even now I can't decide if it was a good thing or a bad thing, all I can do is relate to you the story of how I had lesbian sex for the first time in my life.

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"Ladies and Gentlemen, we're about to begin our final descent to the Norfolk International Airport and will be at the gate in just about 20 minutes. Current weather at Norfolk is sunny at 84 degrees. We have enjoyed having you on board today, thanks again for flying US Airways. Cabin attendants, prepare for arrival please."

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"It's a girl, Mom!" My son-in-law Zack chirped exuberantly through the phone. "It's a girl. You have a beautiful granddaughter." Pressing my cell phone firmly to my ear, I couldn't believe how blank my mind had suddenly gone. Of all the things I thought I would say at this moment, I was at a complete loss for words and was finding it difficult to breathe.

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Everyone in this story is over eighteen. It may seem a little slow to get going, as I've attempted to explore the girl's feelings as she takes her first steps into Lesbian love, and is then taken into willing slavery. 'Can I help you, Sonny?' had said a gruff voice from behind the market stall. That did it. Just past my eighteenth birthday, and the combination of track-suit, short hair and no make-up had me marked as a boy.

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