Your erotic stories

Jason stared at Marsha's ass as she leaned over the conference table in her office reviewing the ad layouts they'd been working on. Part of him was admiring her shapely ass, but most of him was still upset over the performance evaluation she'd given him yesterday. Jason was a 23-year-old artist, fresh out of art school, working for a medium size Ad Agency on the west coast.

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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 sat at the casino bar all morning and into the afternoon. Even though I looked old enough to drink, I was sure the only reason I wasn't asked to leave was because I ordered only soda, and I probably looked like I'd been through enough grief. I didn't talk to anyone, and they quickly understood it did no good to try. My eyes were fixed on the floor behind the bar, but I saw nothing. I didn't even notice the bartender shift changes until I snapped out of it around 4pm. I had been sitting in the same spot all day.

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That Night Life was good, Alicia thought as she tugged the zippered front of her black top halfway down to her navel. The action revealed most of her large tits and another tug promised to release them completely. Her red-hot figure and wavy light brown hair were all part of her persona. So were the short, pleated skirt and knee-high boots that would make a holy man think 'sex.' She looked like a wet dream and her job as a DJ in the small London nightclub not only gave her access to the City's club scene, it hooked her up with a seemingly unlimited supply of young, liberated guys.

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I never know what to expect when my wife's friend Audrey comes to visit, except when she's around there tends to be very little clothing and lots of sex. My curiosity was really piqued when my wife Karen informed me that Audrey and her new boyfriend, Tim, would be in town for the pool party we were having that weekend.

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I took off my shirt and sat in a chair that faced the bed like I was told. David then went to the nightstand and pulled out a pair of handcuffs and soon I heard the click of the cold metal as he snapped them on my wrists behind me. It was my birthday. I expected the handcuffs. It was what happened next that I didn't expect.

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After many years I finally got that well deserved promotion. I had made some very simple plans of taking my lovely woman along for the celebration. I had already made reservations to the most expensive and classy restaurant in town. We made ourselves ready and were on our way out the door. Suddenly we both stopped as we looked longingly at one another. The restaurant, being high-class, required formal attire of their guests.

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It was the last Friday in March. We were having a leaving party at work for Simon, who was moving to another office after having worked as my assistant for the last two years. I was sorry to see him go. We had got along very well and despite our age difference had flirted with each other a few times. We had never allowed the friendship to go beyond those brief flirts -- apart from a dance and kiss at the firm's Christmas parties.

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Karen glanced at the clock, frowned, and realized she had probably missed the director of accounting by fifteen minutes. It was 6:45 in the evening, she was hungry and stressed, and this folder of papers was promised to be on his desk before he left the building. She picked up her phone and dialed the extension of his assistant. Three rings ... four ... voicemail. No one there. She pushed the handset hard into the plastic cradle in frustration, slid her feet back into her high-heeled shoes beneath the broad oak desk and pushed up from her tall, black leather seat.

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