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Ah spring! It was the kind of day where the air is so humid you can cut it with a knife. I had just come back from lunch with my friends and was still joking about our co-worker Ralph’s dress habits. He says he was a nerd in high school, but that he is not anymore. But just looking at him in his shorts and pink shirt, trying to be cool, you can tell he lives, eats, and breathes computers. Not that he’s disagreeable, but he just seems very naive and tries too hard to fit in.

As we went up the stairs to get back to work, Eva came down. The air conditioning in the building was always cranked, and Eva’s nipples were responding by showing through her blouse. If ever there was a woman that could stop traffic, she was it: shoulder length blonde hair, dark complexion, and brown eyes. She looked particularly good in the red blouse and black skirt that she wore today.

As we passed, she smiled and said, “Hello.” Her smile was wonderful, flashing white teeth behind full lips. It was the perfect compliment to her round face.

The afternoon passed with the usual meetings and kibitzing around the coffee maker. As 5:00 approached, Ted called me into his office. All of the offices had windows into the adjoining offices, so we called them fish bowls. Most people had posters or something blocking the window so that you didn’t feel like you were on display. Ted had a PC on his desk and wanted to show me some pictures he had gotten off of the network. He told me to close the door, and then he brought up a picture of a brunette wearing only a bikini bottom, her top dangling from her upturned hand. Childish as this may seem, there is an odd pleasure in viewing naughty pictures on company equipment during office hours. Ted said he had two more, one was a crotch shot and the other was a poor resolution photo of woman in a nightgown. (click to read entire story…)

As a frequent jetsetter, I have for long fantasized about this exclusive club, which in reality probably has few authentic members who have genuinely screwed their way through the stratosphere. How can you manage to have-it-away on board a crowded airliner? Well recently I succeeded – and how! This amazing experience happened on the top deck of a BA 747 heading out of New York for Heathrow, with a beautiful girl I had never met before.

I had had a hectic day getting my work completed before flying out, got to the airport late, and consequently was glad to have got through the airport hassle and slump into my Club Class seat. The top deck of the 747 has a small cabin which some airlines use for first class passengers, but many including BA, use for Business Class; there are only 20 or 30 seats, which gives you the feeling of being in a small, but spacious airliner. The top deck is reached via a spiral staircase and you travel cut off from the masses on the main deck below. This flight, luckily, was fairly empty so I was fortunate that through the lottery of seat allocations, Karen, as she turned out to be named, took up the aisle seat corresponding to my window seat and nobody else got seated either between us or in the row on the other side of the aisle.

Karen was petite and blonde, about 25 I guessed, (rightly as it turned out), and clearly well formed in all the important places. She had remarkably light blue eyes and was obviously in some form of business, as she had a small patent leather brief case and when she took her coat off she was smartly dressed in a grey skirt and white blouse – which showed her firm, well-shaped figure to good effect. I found out later that she was Swedish, a junior salesperson for an internationally known cosmetics company, who at short notice had been given a lucky break to substitute for her boss on a business trip to the USA. Her smart but plain business-woman’s dress looked sexy on her. Her firm breasts thrust out firmly through her white silk blouse as she arched her back to remove her coat and hand it to the stewardess. Black lacy stockings showed her well shaped legs to advantage. But she also radiated something sensual which aroused the first slight stirrings in my crotch. I realized I was feeling quite horny and in the mood for conquest, but not in my wildest dreams did I guess what delights were to follow! (click to read entire story…)

To Miss Stephanie,

It was almost time for Stephanie to get home and Alicia was getting warm with excitement at the thought. She was finishing the vacuuming, the last of the housework that she had told her to do that day. Nothing thrilled her more than playing servant to the tall, imperious girl she had married. She was so beautiful and she loved her so much – that kneeling in submission before her was the supreme pleasure in her life. She had a hard-on in her tight panties, beneath the frilly white apron that covered them, truly a slave of love to that girl.

She heard the front door open and a tingle of titillation went through her. Then she stepped into the living room : a gorgeous creature with long dark hair. She stood with hands on hips, watching her finish her tasks, clad in the white silk blouse and neat black skirt she had worn that day to the office where she was a rising young executive. She had a look of disapproval on her face as she stepped across the freshly vacuumed carpet and dropped into an easy-chair.

“I’m tired, Alicia,” she sighed. “it’s been a hard day, one conference after another. And some of my underlings are no better than you. Inefficient. I have to do everything myself.” She nodded, shutting off the vacuum cleaner as she motioned for her to set it aside and come to her. “Remove my shoes,” she snapped, “and then massage my feet.”

“Yes, Mistress,” she said, hurrying over and addressing her in the form she most liked to hear. It thrilled her just to say those words, the submissive words of a love slave, and she was soon on her knees at her feet. (click to read entire story…)

Bang went the front door! Claire, arriving dead tired from her walk up the neighborhood’s San Francisco hill, after a week of super hard project work at computing services Univ. of California at San Francisco. “Boy, do I need a drink and a load off,” Claire thought, as she kicked off her work shoes, Naturalizer comfort walkers and slipped into her Dr. Scholl’s wooden exercise sandals…”Ahh, that’s already sooo much better.. what would I like to drink now? What’s in here?”, looking into the liquor cabinet. “Aha! Dry Vermouth; I’ll add Tanqueray and ice and stir the hell out of it for a smooth martini plus!!” She took down her glass, mixing metal canister, filling it with chipped ice, poured out a generous three ounces of Tanqueray gin, a mere two drops of vermouth (she hates macho guys who just pass the vermouth bottle near the top of the glass.. for adding fumes. Claire really loves the flavor of the dry vermouth and its slippery slight oiliness adding piquancy and texture her more classic-style martini.

Claire’s ice was practically 100% gin, so she poured her ingredients right into the canister to mix with the ice, then agitated the whole mixture like crazy, for a full two minutes. Her glass had been tucked in the freezer for this little time and now was taken out with a light frost fogging its rim.. Ahhh… what a drink this will be! Slowly pouring out her martini through a metal strainer keeping all ice pieces in the canister, Claire sighed in anticipation as her drink became reality. With a few pieces of gouda cheese sliced and set on Table Water crackers, Claire repaired to her boudoir, the neatest part of her bachelorette apartment.

Zip went the zipper to her fashion-conscious suit, off came her silk blouse, she reached back and released the catch of her sensual bra, freeing her sweet breasts and causing her nipples to pop out with little touches of her martini glass! Off with these stockings and garter belt! Claire liked bucking the trend of most women stuck with pantyhose so she wore stockings to work and on dates, except in the hottest summer months, when she wore thigh-high silk stockings or bare legs. She liked the more sensual feel and give of the garter snaps and flexible-sexy stockings, and she knew that many of her girl friends (click to read entire story…)

This happened when I was about fourteen, I think. I had been reading a “hot” book that Louise gave me. I don’t remember the name, but I do remember I got very horny reading it. I stopped reading to play with myself, but somehow, it wasn’t enough. I wanted something inside. I wanted to feel like I was being “made love” to, and to experience what the heroine of the book was experiencing.

I looked around my room for something penis-sized and -shaped, but didn’t find anything. Pens, pencils, even a hairbrush handle came under my scrutiny and were rejected. The more I searched, the more desperate I became, the more I wanted something. (click to read entire story…)