Your erotic stories

"Well, here we are." My husband Michael holds open the glass door for me to enter the place. The Relaxation Station; a spa in a shopping center. I sigh inwardly; a tacky name, but as this visit is on him I can't complain too much...

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My fiftieth birthday, the big five-O, I was so determined to treat it like any other day, "It's just a number." I said to myself speaking out loud as I stepped out of the shower, wrapped a bath towel around me, tucked it into my cleavage and walked back to my bedroom across the short landing. Reality soon disillusioned me as I removed the towel from my naked body in front of the wardrobe mirror.

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Five o'clock was here and none too soon. This particular Tuesday had been a madhouse at work. Working at my computer terminal, answering the phone and talking to colleagues, often all at the same time, had taken its toll. My back and shoulders ached, and, to make matters worse, I'd overdone it at the gym during lunch hour on Monday. In a word, I was sore.

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You come home from work and find me waiting for you. I am wearing a French maid uniform with white thigh highs and black stiletto heels. I lead you to the bathroom where a robe and toiletries are ready for you. Relaxing music is playing. "We have about half an hour until dinner is ready, Sir."

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The lights are dim, and soft music is playing as you enter through the doorway. You see a candle or two set out, adding a floral scent to the room. The massage table is laid out in the center of the room, with ample space for your masseuse to walk around you while you're lying down. A chair is set out, and you leave your robe on it as you make your way onto the table. You take a couple of towels lying nearby and cover your breasts and pelvis as you lay on your back on the table.

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I guess I should have realized that something like this would happen eventually. I was always made fun of in school for having a "girly" build. At only five foot 4 inches I'm not particularly tall. I have slim shoulders, thin arms and legs and my hips are probably more shapely than most guy's. I didn't exactly help things by keeping my blonde hair shoulder length. I told everyone it was because I liked metal music. Most of all though, I apparently have a nice ass.

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My girlfriend, Julia, had given me a gift certificate for a massage. I wasn't sure what to expect but I tried it. I arrived and was given forms to fill out. Then I was taken back to a room by a very good looking young woman. She was petite with long red hair, nice tits and great legs. She told me to get undressed.

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There were only minutes left in the game and the score was tied – 3 to 3. Antonio knew that they'd have to keep the ball and then score in those final moments, for if the other team got the ball, they'd score quickly and Antonio's team – the PS Thunder – would lose this semi-final match. Antonio noticed Jose on the other side of the field, and signaled that he was open.

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Susan Jackson, Anne's friend was a bored eighteen-year-old horny senior. She was tired of the pawing hands of her male classmates who all wanted her to suck their cocks and fuck but had no idea about how to please a girl. They thought a lick at her crotch was all a girl wanted before being fucked for three minutes. What Susan wanted was an adventure: a loving experience that she could treasure, not some quick fuck in the back seat of some sweaty boy's car.

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Five o'clock was here and none too soon. This particular Tuesday had been a madhouse at work. Working at my computer terminal, answering the phone and talking to colleagues, often all at the same time, had taken its toll. My back and shoulders ached, and, to make matters worse, I'd overdone it at the gym during lunch hour on Monday. In a word, I was sore. The only good thing was that now it was time for my monthly massage therapy appointment. My spirits rose as I drove toward the small apartment that served as Randy's office.

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