Your erotic stories

At twenty six, I had worked in the maintenance department of the office building for something like eight years. It was a go nowhere kind of job, but no one really bothered me, and I was more or less my own boss. The tenants of the building ranged from travel agents, to wholesalers, and even one attorney. None of which were very interesting people as far as I was concerned.

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That Tammy Burt and I were friends, good friends, was a fact, but I was never quite sure how it started. Okay, a shared love of programming helped, as did the fact that Tammy and her divorced mom lived just a block away, but at the time our friendship began, Tammy was only twelve and I was sixteen. Four years in middle teens was a lifetime!

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The sudden chime of the doorbell startled them, and they stared at each other. The doorbell rang again and Rhonda frowned. "Better pull out, baby. I'll see who it is and get rid of them. You just keep that lovely cock warm, or even better, get him nice and hard again, ready for seconds." Jerry pulled back, glancing down. His prick was wet with their mixed fluids.

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Millicent Burton, Milli to her friends and co-workers, leaned back in her chair, stretching her arms back to release the tension that had been building in her shoulders all day. The financial report she'd drafted was due tomorrow and she wasn't going home until it was completed. At 44 years old she'd risen to the top of the company she'd started with as a young woman and as joint acting C.O.O she still had a lot to prove to the men who'd put her there.

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Naresh got on to the bus that was going to the small town that he had been posted to. Lakhanpur, a place he had never heard of, was eons away from the urban environment inhabited by him prior to his present course in life. Naresh was going away for the first time from his parents who were in Delhi, a place he had spent a good part of his life in. They had provided him with a reasonable amount of money in order that he never felt any immediate need for it till his first salary.

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When, Sally, who had worked for my employers ever since she had left school but, having been redeployed, was to me, the new receptionist, I really took notice. She was an extraordinarily pretty, slim lass, with long blond locks, sparkly blue eyes, a pert nose with a cutely bulbous tip, slightly younger than I and, unfortunately, possessed of an engagement ring that she displayed with, considerable, pride.

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"I'm worried about my boys, Marge," Gina Smith confessed to her best friend after church one day. "Why?" Marge replied. "You're a great mother, and your boys seem happy and they do ok in school, right?" "I know... maybe I'm over thinking, but I feel like they need more of a male influence in their lives. Clancy never was around that much right after the divorce, and he rarely calls now than he and Kimmy have moved to California," Gina said, practically spitting out the name of her ex-husband's new, younger wife.

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I could have sworn she was about my age. I'm 21 now, making me a dedicated observer of girl's asses and legs for the last eight years or so. I can detect the slightly-too-slender look of a hot little piece of jailbait, or the subtle signs of impending cellulite that brand most older women. So as I walked along the beach perhaps 30 feet behind the bikini-clad brunette, I never would have guessed she was old enough to be my mom.

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At what point does a preference become a fetish? I met Stella at a party. She had arrived with the critic Darian Fellini. Back then, Fellini was one of the art world's big stars. His book -- All the Naked Women -- had just come out, and everyone was talking about it. Was it art criticism? Or was it pornography? As a 19-year-old art student, I didn't really know. And I didn't really care.

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During my final year of high school my English teacher, Miss Jacobs, became pregnant. This alone is not so remarkable. The problem, however, was that Miss Jacobs was a miss and not a missus. Once the members of the school board found out about Miss Jacobs' pregnancy she was given the option of pregnancy leave (firing her was only an implied threat), after which she was shunted off to another school. Those who banished her probably thought it magnanimous of them to not sew a red A to her blouse before sending her off.

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