Your erotic stories

Doug shook hands firmly with Chow Min, sealing the deal. He'd learned a long time ago to be firm in everything in life and had since earned the reputation as a shark. He didn't mind. It meant that his business was the envy of other companies. It meant he was the best. It meant that people who had once looked down on the backwater kid from Louisiana now looked up to him as employer.

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I've always been a kid at heart. Even today at the age of 24, I still occasionally wear my hair in pigtails, I still suck my thumb when I sleep, and I love to wear short schoolgirl skirts with white cotton panties. I never really got the hang of high heels; I mainly wear white tennis shoes. Instead of a purse, I carry a backpack shaped like some fuzzy animal.

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Most of my lady friends are strictly heterosexual and really enjoy having me eat their pussies and whatever else we do. Most of them have also heard rumors that a woman can eat a pussy better than a man. There is a lot of truth to that; generally speaking, a lesbian or bi-sexual woman can eat a pussy better than a man, for various reasons that I am not going to go into just now. That is just generally speaking though.

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As a new college professor, I was still getting used to being back on a campus. I had spent a few years after graduating in private industry before deciding to go back for my doctoral studies. During those studies, I knew that my calling lied in teaching and started looking for a university position.

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I'm a 38-year old mother of two children, aged 11 and 6. In 16 years of marriage I had never had an extramarital relationship. But that all changed when I went on holiday to Tenerife a couple of months ago. It's not that I haven't had opportunities over the years. I'm medium height with short curly black hair and a pleasant enough face, nicely shaped larger than average boobs and good legs.

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My wife, Peg, and I were invited to my sister-in-law's for Thanksgiving last year and we always tried to accommodate her, first, because she's my wife's sister and, second, because she's a widow having lost her husband in the Iraq War. She and Peg have always been close, there's just a year and a half difference, Janet, being the younger one.

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Jean and Walt have been best friends to my wife Sharon and me forever. Jean and Sharon first met when they were in fourth grade together; they were best friends all through junior high and high school, and when they graduated, they went to the same college, just so they wouldn't have to be apart. Walt and I met in the dorm at college; we just kind of hit it off with each other, and went from there.

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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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"You want some help with those, Jane?" Jane looked up from the sink full of suds to where I was standing in the doorway to the front hall. The plate she had just finished scrubbing slipped back into the water as she released it to dry her hands on the apron and motion me over for a hug. "You cooked, I clean," she said after giving me a quick squeeze and a tender kiss, "Isn't that our usual deal?"

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I stared at the reflection gazing back at me, and found myself not completely disappointed. I was twenty-seven now, but I still could have passed for twenty-one. Time had made my hips a little bigger had made my cheeks a little rounder, but my breasts were still firm and my skin was still soft. My black hair hung at a shoulder-length bob.

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