Your erotic stories

Lisbeth was bored. She idly went through the motions of straightening the shelves of the upscale boutique where she worked on this dreary Thursday morning. Lisbeth was twenty-four and she married less than two years ago, having come from her native Denmark as an au pair originally. The Georgetown lawyer to whom she was married treated her as a trophy wife, insisting that she escort him to his many social events, but once they got home, the middle-aged partner became icily cold to Lisbeth, precluding any carnal activities.

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The music was deafeningly loud; strobes flashed incessantly giving the otherwise dark room a surreal ambiance. My hips gyrated; my feet, clad in black stilettos, moved to an ethereal metallic 'techno' beat. My hands roamed oh so suggestively over my body and lingered as my finger tips cupped and caressed my breasts through a black leather top -- no more than a bra, really; not stitched, but riveted.

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