Your erotic stories

{Ring....}{Ring....} Jules answered, "Hello." I responded, "Hey, Jules it's Liz. Friday's the day. Can you be at my place around 4? That way we can get ready and cook dinner before Tony gets here." Jules replied, "Yes, absolutely, I'm so glad you finally set a date for us all to get together, I can't hardly wait See you at 4."

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I'd been stripping for about 6 months. It wasn't my first choice, but I'd been unable to find a job since graduating with an engineering degree - it seems people just couldn't handle the idea of a pretty, female engineer. It was an ok gig, and it more than paid the bills. I certainly didn't get off on it like I hear about with some girls - it was just a job.

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"It's a girl thing," I said with a smile to the shoe salesman as I looked down at the shoes he had slipped on my feet. Spike heels, narrow straps, absolute torture but worth the pain. "Oh believe me, I completely understand," he said with a sheepish grin. I looked down at the man kneeling patiently at my feet while I admired the shoes. He was waiting for me to decide if I liked them or not, looking up at me with those big brown puppydog eyes, ready to run fetch another pair if I just said the word.

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The ringing of the alarm dragged me up out of a drunken sleep at four thirty in the morning. I lay there staring at the clock and wondering why it was ringing at this time of the morning. It was nearly one when I had fallen into bed after closing the bar. That rang a small bell in my hazy mind. I had promised someone I would take them fishing but for the life of me I couldn't remember who.

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Nicky pushed opened the back-door to Bob's house. It was Tuesday so she had at least three hours before Bob, her landlord, returned from his weekly trip to town. Three hours to do some washing, have a hot shower and grab some food before Bob returned with his groceries, animal feed and fuel. Nicky lived in a caravan on Bob's farm. Every other day Nicky had to bathe using a basin and a sponge but on Tuesdays she took the opportunity to 'play house' while Bob was out.

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Sitting in the pull down seat in the back of the C-130 I had plenty of time to think. The flight back to the states would take eleven hours. I smiled, knowing I would get three weeks off when I had debriefed and knowing that I had completed my mission successfully.

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Every year William and I hold our "Come as You Bizarre" party. Everyone is required to dress in a way they never would in real life, in a way that would make their friends laugh, cry or recoil in shock. Last year I was a Playboy bunny, the year before, a scantily clad wench. This year, I chose a skin tight black wet-look catsuit, one that showed off every single curve of my body.

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Kelly and I met in our freshman composition class, two eighteen-year-olds sitting in the back of the room trying not to fall asleep together and cutting jokes about our professor as he talked about how his class was an important foundation for our collegiate success, would help us in life, etc., etc. All the same shit that high school teachers tried to tell me.

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It is Saturday, mid-morning. My cellphone rings, I pick it up and see that it is my answering service. I take the call. "Yes, speaking...What are the symptoms?"...looking for a pen and paper. "What is her number?...OK. Thanks." I jot down the number. "Stephanie! What have I gotten myself into now?" I say to myself.

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My pet had been very bad today. She was taking the day off from her internet professions and I was going into work. She begged and pleaded with me to stay home with her but I said I couldn't, and went to work. I hadn't been at my desk for five minutes before my phone went off. I checked it, and it was a picture that my pet, Rebekah, sent me seemingly in retaliation for not staying home.

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