Your erotic stories

Angela was a few years younger than me - well OK a good twenty. She joined our company straight from college and had other assets apart from being remarkably good at her job. She had long dark hair, perfect slim figure without being gaunt and pert young breasts that just looked perfect under anything she chose to wear. She'd been with us six months when her performance and potential were first recognised.

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Alyssa braced herself for the effort, and then stood up. She cradled her swollen tummy — and the life growing within — taking a moment to rest before heading to the door of her office. She pushed an errant lock of dark brunette hair away from her eyes and gathered up her purse. "Why didn't you wait for me to help you up?" Sarah asked. Her dark-haired assistant wore a scowl as she stood in the doorway with her hands on her hips.

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So the truth was, I'd hired her for her tits. The benefit was, she was sharp as a tack, the heart and soul of the daily operations as it turned out. The fact that Theresa had looks, and like I said a great pair of tits that she (sort of) enjoyed showing off was an obvious factor when I had hired her on. Being damn intelligent and multi-functional, I only learned after she had started working for me. Theresa had an olive complexion, long dark hair with deep-set brown eyes and full lips that were just begging to be kissed every time she looked at you.

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Chapter 1 I was sitting in the rec room watching TV one afternoon when my eighteen old daughter Samantha came home from school. She came over and kissed me, and then she sat on my lap. Now when I say that she sat on my lap, what I mean is that she sat facing me, straddling me with her legs, and her arms on my shoulders. I knew immediately what that meant. Samantha wanted something, something special. And most likely, something expensive.

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It was a wild midsummer's night. The rain was pelting down in sheets and the wind was howling through the trees like the banshee's lonely wail. I was sitting in my favorite chair with a half full bottle of single malt Scotch in my left hand and a revolver in my right hand. There was only one bullet in the revolver and I was getting up my Dutch courage to play the first round of Russian roulette.

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"Uncle Joe, please! I'm serious, OK? You have to stop sleeping with my friends!" Lilly, my niece, was livid. I'm not exactly sure how she found out, but then I hadn't exactly been going to great lengths to hide it either. Emily and Laura were both consenting adults. Sure, I was twice their age. But it was they who had come to me.

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She studied the top of his head and selected the exact point of entry. It was to be the motor cortex just behind the frontal lobe. It would affect immediate paralysis of basic movements and the brain stem would cease to stimulate the lung muscles. His life would expire within ninety seconds. He was grunting as he continued his savage thrusts into her and growled, "Do you like being fucked hard you whore."

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Chapter 1 Dawn's friends were spending the night again. I really wasn't all that surprised, of course, but it would have been easier on me if they were staying at another parents house. There was some work I had to do tonight, but I guess it would have to wait. Whenever my daughter's friends are in the house, I don't get much done until they quiet down for the evening.

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"Happy Fucking Birthday to me!" I thought to myself. If only I knew at that moment just how happy my fifty-second birthday was truly going to be. But as I took my regular afternoon jog through Meyer Park in the northwest suburbs of Houston, Texas; my mind was a swirling mess of self-pity, loneliness and sexual frustration. My husband and I had been divorced for nearly four years, all three of my children were either grown and gone or away visiting their father for the summer and I hadn't gotten a good piece of ass in what seemed like decades.

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Mr Valens reached towards the numbers on the alarm panel inside the front door of his modern, two storey home. The red light was not flashing. He paused and cast his eyes around without moving, noting the gleaming kitchen bench, the bleak smell of domestic cleaner. Then he remembered. Today was Wednesday - Sharni Peller's cleaning day.

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