Category: eroticliterature

Remember Sarah, let me tell you about what happened to her a few years back. She was a director at Simon and Schuster and a favorite of Max Schuster the third’s. Well Max ultimately made her a VP. She was the fair haired golden child as they say. She showed a lot of promise. “She delivers.” Max often told the others. The others were all envious of the relationship she had with Max, and the reverence in which he held her.

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Tom Fink was the IT guy at S & S as they called it. An amorphous blob of bagel eating flesh. A day didn’t go by that there wasn’t a poppy or caraway seed stuck in his teeth, butter or cream cheese on his shirt and the tail, at least a half inch of which, wasn’t protruding from his pants zipper. He gave the impression that he was always angling for something. You couldn’t put your finger on it (another figure of speech, sorry but they are so effective) but he was the type of person one couldn’t let their guard down when one was around. He was bright just as most good programmers always are. The smell of Toms body odor was reminiscent of the rendering of blubber into sperm oil. Read more »

A lot had happened in the last week. A lot..

As great as it had been, the guilt growing inside just made the whole experience sickening. He had cheated so many times, with Camilles friends, even strangers! He got a call about that job but decided to ignore it because he just couldn’t face that woman again..

He needed time to think, so that evening when Camille came home from work, she entered the bedroom to find bags packed, and her fiancé waiting patiently on the bed with a hand written card.

In it he wrote all the reasons he loved her and just how much she means to him, and instantly her first response was “what have you done..” his lack of response said volumes. “Well maybe I’m not one to judge.. I haven’t been exactly innocent either, I heard about you and the girls by the way, normally I’d be mad but.. I..” she broke down in tears as she struggled to get the words out. “I’ve.. I cheated.. twice!” She burst out hysterically crying. “I’m so sorry..” Read more »

They weren’t writing, they were dancing. These were in memo form. Their writings were thinly disguised attempts to win the favor of each other. It was a dance as much as it was a display of fine swordsmanship. Him a thrust, her a parry. The dance would take a long time to complete. The idea of the dance was to create tension and desire. When this dance was done and she surrendered her gift to him he would mount her and he would be forever lost in her event horizon. That’s why we are here on earth.

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I am going to quit drinking but not as long as I can get away with it. The smell of a good smelling cunt is very distinctive and it makes a person—more so than a dog, which is known for a good sense of smell—rock hard and horny. A good smelling pair of a girls dirty panties with just the right stink can send a fella into a tizzy. It can make him do things that he’d only do drunk. Sarah left a pair of her soiled panties on Max’s desk. She was a long distance runner and she prepped these especially for him. She gave them to Mrs. Hathaway, Max’s secretary (Administrative assistant as you’d call her these days, I’m old, excuse me.) in a box and told her to be sure he got them. Guess what else Sarah told Mrs. Hathaway? “Don’t say where they came from!” said Sarah. Mrs. Hathaway, no stranger to love and a great grandmother winked at Sarah. Read more »

Your fingers move in and out, while keeping the pulsating water hitting my clitoris. Somehow you find a way to simultaneously slide your fingers in and out of me while making a circular motion around the width of my opening, stretching me, and also adjusting the pressure of the shower head by moving it closer, then pulling back, and moving in closer. The rhythm of it all makes me squirm and clench and pull and want more. My hands move from your shoulders to my thighs, over my stomach and up to my breasts. My nipples need a tug, a pinch, a twist. I oblige myself. The moan that escapes my lips is more guttural than I expected. I open my eyes to see your eyes darken and a smirk growing. It is nearly my undoing. You’ve brought me so close to the edge I think I’m going to explode. And then you remove the pulsating shower head. I whimper and plead for more. I see you lick your lips and dip your head. Then all I feel is your tongue devour me. You are hungry. There’s no taking your time. Not now. Later. Right now you want to taste me thoroughly, deeply, completely. Your tongue moves up and down and dips into my vagina and out again and circles around. I try to find a pattern but I am lost in the sensations. As your urgency increases, your fingers reenter me and thrust. My fingers grab at your head, pressing you closer. My moaning has reached a fever pitch. The sounds coming from you only serve to excite me more, if that was even possible. And then I come undone. I writhe and clench and shudder under your touch. As the wave washes over me, I can feel you drink me in. Sucking my clit, pulling it into your mouth as I cum.