Your erotic stories

It was the late 70s. I was in college and not old enough to drink legally, but looked old enough so that my ID was rarely checked. I worked as a cook in a steak house and my asshole manager, Newman, stalked into the kitchen after closing time and barked "There is some cunt asking about you in the bar. The only reason I didn't throw her out is because she is spending money. Go get rid of her and get your ass back here to clean up."

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I had been dating Doug, a big, blonde, football player, for about a month. Though he wasn't the sharpest crayon in the box, he was handsome and popular, and fun in bed. One evening, close to the end of term, I swung by his apartment to see if he wanted to go and grab something to eat. I was surprised when Doug's roommate, Warren, answered the door. He was hardly ever home.

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"Hey honey... Have you seen this?" My husband asked, showing me an email he had received. I barely glanced at it before answering. "Nope!" "It's from our group. They're having a Halloween party... swinger style!" My hubby informed me. "Really?" I asked with interest. "Hang on, let me see if I got an email from them too." Sure enough, a quick look at my inbox proved that I had gotten an email invite. Hmm... it's been some time since the last group party...

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My wife Liz and I were enjoying our new found freedom. The worries and problems of child rearing, mortgages and financial concerns, were largely in our past. We were living a life more centered on each other. Our vacations were now of our choice, we enjoyed walks together after dinner, we dined at nice restaurants instead of fast food outlets, and our sex life had blossomed.

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I sat down with a heavy sigh of relief as my brother and I dropped the last, huge, brown box in front of our new couch. He heaved out a long winded breath of his own as his wiped his forehead with the back of hand. "Shit, I'm glad we're finally finished moving all of this useless junk..," He irritated mumbled as he smacked a pack of Newports against his palm and pulled one out of the pack, along with a plastic lighter.

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It was the stupidest thing I've done in my entire life; let's be honest, I knew that at the time but I still did it, silly cow! It was just before Christmas, and I'd gone with a few of my fellow teachers to the pub to celebrate the end of term – my first in my new profession. I'm Cathy Hull by the way, 23, pretty in a girl-next-door sort of way with a pale face, regular features, shoulder length brown hair (mousey, if I'm, being honest), and quite petite, five-foot-four with a slim figure. I'm from just outside London, and the school I teach at is about fifty miles north of my home town.

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Meg's heart pounded in her chest as she pulled into a parking space in front of the condominium. She was having difficulty believing that she had agreed to this. What in the name of God had her hormones gotten her into this time? Where was her mind when she visited that Internet chat room? It had been hard enough to admit that old desires had begun to surface again but to actively go out and seek someone who could help her fulfill them was madness.

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Drake signaled to change lanes, listening to Frank's voice on the phone. It had been a good internship, and he had learned a lot from Frank. Truth be told, Drake had a bit of a man crush on Frank. From his stories of adventure in the military and as a contractor to his smoking hot girlfriend, he was almost like an action movie hero. More Clark Kent than Bruce Wayne or John McClain, Frank had become a good friend and trusted advisor.

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Author's note: To Kait, whose kindness, friendship and intelligence proved inspirational. Part I. New York No, I had never actively sought a call girl before and it wasn't helping that she had to have rather special qualities. She had to be young, experienced, smart, and bisexual; a combination of features which excluded everyone I had stumbled across so far.

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PRELUDE Suzette Mica Du Bois was lying on her back on a massage table. Her lovely shapely body was barely covered with a towel. The towel was long enough to modestly cover her breasts and her pubes. This was her third trip to the Paris spa this week and she anxiously awaited her masseur. Her excitement grew as she anticipated the day's activities. The nipples on her 34 C breasts were stiff and poking at the towel. She knew her pussy was wet and it took all her will power not reach down and stroke her clit.

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