All Chapters of A Thousand Orgasms: Erotica Collection : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

This past summer, one of my coworkers said goodbye to us because he was moving to another city. His name is Jaime; he is a very pleasant and friendly guy. He liked to "hit on me," you know, with compliments and phrases like "you look beautiful today," "you are the prettiest girl in the office," "I wish I were your boyfriend," "what a beautiful body," "you have gorgeous eyes," etc. I told him several times to give up trying to flirt with me, that I had a boyfriend and that he was married. It's also true that I love hearing compliments and nice phrases from my coworkers and my bosses. Besides, Jaime never said anything obscene to me, always nice compliments. The truth is that the man, who was about 35 years old, seemed very attractive to me—strong, tall, and with very beautiful dark eyes—but you could say that I simply liked him, like many others, and nothing more. On the day of his farewell, I was wearing a short, sleeveless patterned dress that showed off my legs quite a bi

He came closer to me and was about to kiss me again. This time, I took the initiative. I grabbed him by the neck and ran my tongue over the corner of his mouth. Then I moved to his ear and gave it several good licks. He clearly liked it, as I noticed the hair on the back of his neck stand up. While he kissed my neck, he stroked my back over my dress, but this time my lack of underwear was no obstacle. The thin fabric of the dress made his caresses much more exciting. From my back, his hand moved down to my butt, which he rubbed hard over the material. Afterward, he moved up my hips and caressed my breasts. I groaned and bit his neck. He was killing me with pleasure... His caresses continued, but this time from under the dress. He traced the contours of my thighs, my hips, my butt, and the hair of my pubis. He continued his explorations and began to unbutton my dress, button by button. I helped him take it off, and it fell to the floor, leaving me completely naked. We separated

About three years ago, I was dedicated to selling computer products to businesses, which meant I had to make daily, in-person visits to factories, warehouses, and offices in my city. It's not a particularly pleasant job; you pound the pavement visiting every company under the sun, and most days, as the saying goes, "you don't sell a broom" (meaning you sell nothing at all). However, sometimes you can use very useful sales tricks and tactics such as persuasion, seduction, deception, blackmail, etc. They say anything goes when it comes to selling. At the time, I preferred to use my own feminine assets. I'll explain: I've always liked to stand out with my clothes, but for this type of work, being as sexy as possible was a "good hook." Imagine: I was 21 at the time—very striking, blonde, long hair, green eyes, a sensual mouth, good breasts, a narrow waist, a round butt, long legs. Today, I try to maintain that figure, which costs me quite a few sacrifices, like eating very little (and

I stood completely naked in front of him. His eyes scanned my entire body and especially my sex, which was very neatly trimmed with a line of black hair around the slit. "You look like a dream!" he said. "You are beautiful!" Those words made a shiver of pleasure run through my whole body, feeling my pussy moisten. "How about we increase the order by another 40 color inkjet printers?" I asked him while licking my lips and stroking my breasts, waist, and hips with all the sensuality in the world. "In exchange for what?" he asked, intrigued. "Well, I'll undress you, and I'll let you caress me. Does that seem too expensive?" "I think I'm dreaming. Take note and start now," he said, very excited. I took off his jacket, and his hands gently grabbed my waist—his hands were cold and sweaty. He caressed my hips with his hands, then I loosened his tie, and he caressed my back. I unbuckled his belt and the buttons of his shirt while his hands massaged my breasts as if he were kneadi

Her I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the market. Not for a second. I felt you before I saw you, that electric pull in my chest that makes my skin prickle and my breath catch. I was holding a delicate porcelain cup, pretending to care about Esther’s wedding gift, when every nerve in my body lit up. You were there. Four stalls back. Trying (and failing) to look like you weren’t staring. I turned just enough to catch your eyes on me, and I couldn’t help the tiny laugh that escaped. Nervous. Thrilled. Ridiculous. I kept my back to you on purpose, letting you drink me in: the thin white blouse slipping off one shoulder, the strip of bare waist above my tight brown trousers, the way my heels made my legs look endless. I could feel your gaze like hands. And God, when I finally stole a glance back… you in those jeans that hugged your ass perfectly, sleeves rolled up, forearms strong and tanned. My mouth went dry. My pulse thundered between my thighs. I was already soaked and