Your erotic stories

I used to work in an office environment like so many other individuals these days. Indiscretion on my part one day turned my life upside-down and inside out. I was so naive at 26 at what goes on in the world. I was a pool secretary, doing a lot of paper work in an architect firm. Everyone could see everyone so there was no privacy. If there was a need for private discussions, the office had several conference rooms along the outside walls. The conference rooms had blinds that could be closed.

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I'm still working on the behemoth stories. Here's something I poked at in the meantime, and I spit this one out pretty quick, too. Hope there aren't too many errors. For those that like their fiction hard, this probably isn't your sauce. No worries, I have that coming. I do appreciate the comments and criticisms. It's helping, I hope.

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You look out the window as the plane takes off, leaving home and your fiance behind. In a few hours you'll be where I am, at the conference on the west coast. You first really big conference. Your first time giving a panel paper before such an influential crowd. And your first weekend away with me.

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This move was a big step for me. After being married for thirty years I finally had my kids raised and was left without a life, neither; personal, professional nor sexual as we'd been living apart in the same house for two years. I finally made the decision to leave and make my own way again. Needless to say, much was my own fault as I tolerated the neglect and did so from personal fears and the loathing to be on my own with two kids, but none the less, as I approached my thirty year anniversary I kept asking myself, "Do you want another thirty years like this?" and the answer came back every time as "fuck no!".

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Time-keeping has never been my strong point. There again, I would never have described it as one of my principal weaknesses before, either. And let's face it, there's a pretty long list of candidates in the 'weaknesses' category -- so what happened last Friday afternoon was a shock in more ways than one. Okay, so I wasn't exactly 'keeping myself to myself' or 'busy minding my own business', but nor was I doing anything flamboyant or acting the show-off.

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"Ever wrestle before?" It was an odd question to come out of nowhere from someone I had just barely got to know. I stopped walking and looked down at my skinny frame for a moment, then back to the face of my college schoolmate.

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"Lissa?" Jill tossed her purse in the corner as she walked into the apartment, her dark hair sticking to her forehead in the sweltering heat. She knew that it always irritated Lissa when she left her purse there, but at the moment, Jill wasn't all that interested in making Lissa happy. "Where the heck have you been?"

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I got home from playing basketball, and my mom and her friends were in the middle of ladies bridge night. Two tables with four women each all looked over at me when I came through the door, and I turned a little red. I must have been a picture of loveliness, my sweat stained t-shirt clinging to my chest and back, my damp hair hanging in my face, basketball in the crook of my arm. I waved to my mom and headed upstairs. "Charlie!" she called after me.

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"I must be crazy," Elise thought fleetingly as she jabbed the needle into her left breast, two inches below the nipple. It hurt, but not as badly as the needle already buried in her right breast. That one was still stinging, sending a thrill through her that left her gasping. She had hoped that the one in her left breast would balance the pain. Pulling her breast up by the nipple, she withdrew the needle, blessed it in the smoke of the incense, and then stabbed again.

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I've always been a bit of an exhibitionist. The thought of someone getting turned on by watching me excites me to no end. I like the idea of someone stroking themselves after having caught a glimpse of me. That being said, until a few days ago, I had never really considered how dangerous it was. The desire blinded me to all the risks.

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