Your erotic stories

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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Paul exited his office heading toward the mail room, as he stepped into the room he ran directly into a young lady heading out. With a slight screech the poor girl landed flat on her butt. "Oh my god," Paul said with concern, reaching down to help her up. "Are you alright?" As he bent to take her hand, his eyes diverted to her legs, down to her sandaled feet and up to the sight of her panty clad pussy, then back down her legs to her pretty little feet and painted toenails.

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Eric had decided to book us a nice weekend break in the Lake District in England for his 51st birthday. It turned out to be a very nice weekend weather wise, which is unusual for the Lake District, and also a very naughty and sexy weekend overall! On arriving at the very small guest house we were booked into, we were shown to our room by one of the owners, a guy called Phillip. He ran the guest house with some of his family, his daughter and son in law to be precise.

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I was in Manila for business for 10 days, and had a lot to accomplish, but didn't know the local culture, or have many local contacts. Through an old school friend, I contacted the Chair of the Industrial Engineering Department of De La Salle University to get a recommendation for a highly professional student who could act as my local liaison for the week.

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I always looked up to Blaine; she was like the big sister I never had. Blaine taught me everything, from how to walk in heels to getting a guy to pay for your drinks. I really loved it; hell, I loved her. It killed me to admit it, but I really did. Not in the awkward way a brother loves a sister, or the passionate way a husband loves a wife, but in a secret, silent way that was embarrassing to think about.

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