Your erotic stories

There were only minutes left in the game and the score was tied – 3 to 3. Antonio knew that they'd have to keep the ball and then score in those final moments, for if the other team got the ball, they'd score quickly and Antonio's team – the PS Thunder – would lose this semi-final match. Antonio noticed Jose on the other side of the field, and signaled that he was open.

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My name is Angeline Currie. You won't find that name in any history of Hollywood. In all the movies in which I starred from the '40s to the '60s, and the character roles I played in movies and on TV in the twilight of my career, I was billed quite differently. Not even my agent knew my real name but, trust me, if you heard my professional name you'd certainly know it.

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I enjoy working late. I am a transcriptionist, and can get more done when the hub-bub of a packed law office has quieted. One thing though, this old office building is about as tightly insulated as a bridge, and creaks as badly as my forty-mumble year old knees. I find myself getting up from my desk at least once an hour to see if somehow an earthquake hasn't hit, as my geology professor called it, the Laurentian Plateau.

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I woke up to the sound of someone pounding on my front door. I cracked open one bleary eye and checked the clock. Two in the goddamn morning. I wondered who the hell it could be this late at night. I'd just spent the past week putting in overtime at the office. There was a major client project going down, and while I wasn't team lead I did have a major part to play. That meant a lot of late nights and early mornings.

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The scent of cooked turkey still lingered in kitchens across America and the shops and stores were already decorated for Christmas; the coffee shop where Carol sat being no exception. Disconsolately sipping her latte, she didn't feel in a very celebratory mood. The promise of employment that had motivated her to leave home and move to the city hadn't materialized and now she was homesick, low on funds and still job hunting.

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PRELUDE Louise Connor took me by the hand and led me over the doorway with the mistletoe hanging overhead. She took me in her arms and kissed me driving her tongue deep into my mouth. Then she released the lip lock on me and dropped to her knees in front of me. I remained still as Louise unbuckled my belt and unfastened my trousers. She took her time and then lowered them down past my knees. I could feel my cock rising to the occasion and my boxer shorts tented in evidence of my excitement.

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Before Penny married Mark she had been married before when she was a young, innocent twenty-year old beauty to a wealthy man twenty years her senior who loved and spoiled her with everything she ever wanted or needed both physically and sexually. They had two daughters, Penelope and Pamela, in the first three years of their marriage who were growing up into beautiful, young girls.

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A meeting with the new boss, great. I hadn't met him yet so he called me away from my busy schedule just so I could meet with him. I hated meetings and was notorious for it, thinking they were usually a diversion from the task at hand. I walked down the hall toward his office, my face with an agitated grimace on it. Some of my co-workers caught on and began cracking jokes about it. "Mark Johnston," a sign on his office door proclaimed as I knocked.

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Have you ever found yourself in a situation, you knew many would consider wrong? No, I'm not talking murder wrong, so calm down, dear reader. I guess to tell this story right; I have to begin at the beginning of my story. A while back (no, I'm not telling you when, as for all I know, the wrong person or people are reading this) I was helping a friend move into her new place. Now, I know, helping a friend move isn't a bad thing, but it was what happened after that was, well, so to speak. My friend had a nice neighbor, a widowed father with three boys: Bobby -- 20, Dawson -- 18, and Elliot -- 12.

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My friend, George, the sleeping car attendant, teases me with a double entendre private nickname. He calls me "All-Aboard Betty." Let me explain. I have necessarily drawn George into a conspiracy because I need him to achieve my purpose during periodic journeys aboard The Frontier, a transcontinental passenger train. When I'm aboard the Frontier becomes instead the Piece Train. (Apologies to Yusuf Islam. The devil made me do that.)

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