Your erotic stories

The other night, I was at the department store in the mall, buying some clothes. As I was leaving, I walked by the shoe department and I decided to see what this year's women's shoe styles were like. As I perused the designer's spring collections, the saleswoman approached me.

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He hated this hour, the long, monotonous hour before closing time, made even more unbearable today because Cynthia, his manager, had left him alone to close up shop. Not even her constant harping to keep him company and customers were few and far between, bustling past without a sideways glance, to make it home before the early dark of a cold winters evening.

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Hello diary I've never kept a journal before. With the exception of my best friend,there's no one I can tell what I've done this past week. I figured this would be a perfect time to start writing things down. I think it'll make me feel better.

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"Half an hour to go," I thought. We closed at six o'clock on Fridays, and I was definitely ready to go home. It had been a long week at the shoe store where I worked. Michelle, the owner, had decided to hold a big summer sale to try to boost the business. It's hard for a small boutique store to compete with the big chains, so I understood the need, but it had been a crazy week. Michelle did a good job promoting the sale.

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I'm sitting in the black leather chair as usual. The leather cool against my thighs. I'm dressed in a very short black skirt, a skintight low necked black top, black fishnet stockings and the main event: my six inch black shiny stiletto heeled shoes. I cross my legs and swing my foot impatiently, acutely conscious of the light reflecting off my shoe as it makes its arc through the air.

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It was almost 4:00 when I finally got away from the office and headed home. This in itself wasn't remarkable except I had planned on leaving early in the afternoon. I had wanted to get home early and surprise my wife. Oh well, the best laid plans... I picked up my cell phone to call Stacey and let her know I would be home in about 30 minutes or so. She answered the phone on the first ring. "Hi, Honey, what's up?" I asked cheerfully.

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Not long after graduating from college with my bachelors, I moved into a house with some of my frat brothers for about two years. I was lucky enough to find a great job that I knew from the start would lead to bigger things if I worked hard enough. The hours were limited, however, so I found myself with more free time on my hands than I wished for.

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I work for a medium-sized company in the Midwest. There is no shortage of pretty women working here; however, there is one special lady I will never forget. She is an attractive 30-something woman, tall and slender with short brown hair and glasses. Always well dressed, if a little conservative and always engaging.

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As the train slowed down and drew into York station Mark smiled at his wife Serena and asked how she felt. 'Nervous, and as horny as hell,' she replied. The train slowed to a halt and Mark and Serena got off and made their way off the platform where they were due to meet Robert, Mrs Wyles' assistant. They held hands as they approached the ticket barrier and walked through it.

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"I've been in quite a writing rut lately, with several of my best stories left unfinished for months now. Many people tell me the only way to get out of a writer's block is to keep writing. Hence, I wrote this story based off something peculiar I noticed at a party; a girl sniffing a pair of flats. At first, I amused myself with the idea the girl had a foot fetish, but soon realized they were hers when she immediately put them on.

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