Your erotic stories

"Ugh. Whatever happened to standards Sharon? Why does everyone think all you need to be a secretary is to look good?" Meet Jake Andrews, a 38 year old CEO of a medium sized business firm. Jake looked pretty average with his brown hair, brown eyes, and an unassuming Caucasian face, not ugly but not handsome by any stretch.

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Despite my best efforts, thoughts of what I wanted to do to Michael kept clouding my mind. Maybe coming up with that fantasy about him hadn't been the best idea. Instead of clearing my head, now I was wishing even more that it would happen in reality. But the pressure was on with our project and I forced myself to focus on the job at hand. The next four days of the convention were really intense. It wasn't easy because the others all knew each other and had worked together in this type of situation before, and I was still the new guy in the group.

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As the first pot of Monday morning coffee brewed, its rich fragrance floated heavily through the stale air of the office. Juliana, an experienced twenty-eight year old customer service rep enjoyed coming into work nearly a half hour earlier than anyone else. This was her private time -- her chance to catch up on emails, reports, and any actual work before her day started and her mind drifted to topics other than work.

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Starting a successful home business is a hard thing, that's for sure. There were many obstacles and difficulties when I started, but now the 'Watson & Co.' is a popular branding. Being an entrepreneur is not easy, let alone when the '& Co.' part of your brand is nonexistent. That's right. There is no one else helping in managing the company but myself. Alexander Watson worked solo.

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You gotta see your husband's fabulous new office, was the way he'd put it. Even now the words ring in my ears as I masturbate to climax on lazy afternoons. Frank Finlay was Peter's new boss. Peter's my husband -- a kind, good looking, trusting soul. Perhaps it is his trusting ways that are the cause of this.

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Abbey was on her way to the job of her dreams. Growing up, she had always wanted to work at an investment firm like her father, who was very successful at what he did. She worked hard all of her life, determined to make it on her own. She went to the best schools and did all the right things. After a few notable internships, she was finally able to land an entry level position at a major investment firm in the big city.

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Steve found himself the last person in the office again. It was another late night, and Christmas was fast approaching but he just had to finish the sales proposal. It was a huge account and could make or break his bonus for the next year. It was all going to be worth it in the end, he told himself. He girlfriend, Beth, had been bitching constantly about the late nights that Steve was putting in.

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Insolent. That was the only word that came to mind as I looked at Jeremy Saitou. Everything about him seemed to radiate impudence: his brightly colored hair (red enough to rival any fire engine), his pierced brow and lower lip, the electric blue plugs in his stretched earlobes, his mouth, which—thanks to a small scar on the right side of his upper lip—was curled into a permanent sneer.

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A sound outside her office window caused Cindy to jerk her head up. She had been staring blindly at her fingers resting on the black computer keyboard. They weren't moving, but her mind was a blur of thoughts…mostly bad ones. Cindy was temporarily relieved to be back in the real world instead of the illusory place in her head.

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"If this does not solve your issue Patrick. I swear to God I am going to fire you as soon as you get back." "Yes, sir." Patrick muttered as he hung up the phone. Patrick was sitting in some therapist's waiting room. He looked around at the cream-colored walls as he debated reading Newsweek. He decided against it and his mind wandered.

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