Your erotic stories

It was last Friday afternoon at the office and it had been a very stressful week. Now that it was 3:30 and things started to slow down, I leaned back in my chair and took my eyes off the computer monitor for the first time in what felt like hours. I glanced over at the new girl, Amber, and our eyes locked for a moment. A little smile appeared on her face so I smiled back. She then turned her gaze back to her monitor and returned to work. But I didn't look away.

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The name's Michael. I'm an Irish boy from nowhere in particular, and the bright-red ponytail I wear is more than enough proof of that. I dress well enough when I need to; my work wardrobe usually consists of black wingtips, tight-fitting black slacks that are a little loose around the knees to allow for bending, and a dark solid button-down. I'm a relatively fit guy; I bike to work every morning and jog in the evenings.

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I was eighteen, had just moved out of my parents' house after breaking up with my girlfriend of two years. I was not ready to go to college. So against my father's advice I moved to a city far away from my small home town and found a job as a mail boy at a large real estate company, which made it possible for me to rent a small flat and pay for my own car.

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- 1 - My husband Dan is an engineer—and, I strongly suspect, a sex addict. Until recently, these were separate parts of his life. Not that I'm complaining, too much, about Dan's strong libido. He's always been faithful. And he's also a willing student—and budding master—of my body. I may want sex less frequently than he, but I probably get more enjoyment from it than I deserve for my own efforts. Besides, Dan's curiosity and drive definitely keeps things interesting in our bedroom—and sometimes outside of it too!

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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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I was in my mid thirties, happily married to a man who I considered my best friend and my sexual partner as we both had healthy sexual appetites that filled the nights well and I had the satisfaction in my job to make the days pleasant. I think I am fairly attractive, blonde hair, green eyes and I was pretty trim for my age;

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My name is Mark and I have a confession. I'm an attractive 35 year old man with a pretty wife and two great little kids. I have a good job, a nice house and what appears from the outside to be a perfectly normal life. But I have a secret...a hot, sexy, naughty, filthy little secret named Lizzy. Lizzy was 19 when this all started (actually she had just turned 20, but that didn't make me feel any better). She was the daughter of Tom, one of my two bosses and a guy that could ruin my life if he ever suspected that I had done anything with his gorgeous daughter.

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“You have a two o’clock meeting with the regional developer’s association. There’s the briefing on the smart growth legislation they’re interested in,” Cathy informed me as I slowly flipped through the contents of my inbox, which always seemed overwhelmingly full on each of my visits back to my district. “I’m assuming they’re against it,” I sarcastically replied.

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"Thin" isn't a word anyone has ever used to describe me. "Beautiful" isn't either. But "sexy"? Well, that's another story. It's funny how long it takes us to come to a realization of who we really are. For me, it took just over 40 years. My whole life I'd struggled with the weight of my own expectations—always wanting to be fifteen or twenty pounds lighter, to have better cheekbones, to have my hair be a better color or my complexion a little better.

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Abbie scratched her ass and then settled deeper into the worn couch. Crumbs from her pretzels irritated her thighs, but she made no move to brush them off. She nursed the dregs of her diet coke and waited for Phyllis to tell Sierra that Phillip was really her half-brother's cousin, not her twin brother. She snapped up another pretzel and grinned evilly. Phyllis's revenge would be short-lived. Sierra would have the last laugh because Sierra carried Phillip's baby.

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