1. Beef with Broccoli


    Date: 2/1/2015, Categories: Fiction, Blowjob, Erotica, Written by women, Author: CandyXLove, Rating: 92.9, Source: sexstories.com

    apartment with white mosquito net and I have so many mismatched rugs on the hardwood floor that the floorboards don't make any sound under my bare feet, even when I'm dancing around in my underwear like a crazy person. My couch is a boring beige underneath all the fuchsia pillows and blue silk comforters I piled on it. The best thing, though, the thing that makes my apartment a place I actually want to be instead of just being a refuge from all the places that wear me down, is the window that takes up half the outside wall. Over the tops of shorter buildings, I have a clear view of the park a few blocks away, its silver pond framed by trees. It's worth walking up and down nine flights of stairs every day just to see it. I kick my shoes into the basket by the door and strip out of my sweater, my t-shirt, and, mercifully, my heaved-on pants. Those I handle like I'm under hazmat protocol; the last thing I need is to start the weekend off with the flu. I toss my bra and panties on the bathroom floor and crank the shower up to full heat. I want to get rid of as much of this week as I can, so I shave all over. Nobody's going to know but me, I haven't fooled around with a guy in three months, but even a single girl needs some standards. My only clean bra is the black lace one I wear on promising dates. What the hell - I shrug and snap it closed under my breasts, even put on the matching panties. I pull on some oversized pajama pants and a camisole that can barely compete with the ...
    incredible push-up power of my good bra. If I'm going to be my own date tonight, I might as well look hot. I'm pretty sure I'm putting out for my vibrator later. I call Wong's Wok for my favorite: beef with broccoli, brown rice, two egg rolls. They have the best egg rolls at Wong's, so crispy on the outside and rich on the inside that it's hard for me to wait to bite into one until its cool enough not to strip all the skin off the roof of my mouth. It's probably just my good lingerie under my lounging-around clothes molding my imagination the same way it's pushing my breasts up and together under my tank top, but the guy who confirms my order over the phone at Wong's sounds young and kind of sexy, not the older-sounding guy with the thick accent who normally answers. My food will be delivered in half an hour. As I dry my hair, I entertain myself with thoughts of what a hot Chinese food delivery guy might look like. Asian guys aren't usually very tall, but I'm not tall myself. He's two or three inches taller than me, then. It's not fair for someone with a sexy baritone like that to have narrow shoulders or a puny chest, so I imagine him with a stocky, V-shaped torso. Dark eyes, thick black hair...somehow all of my fantasies turn into cheesy porno intros as soon as I open the door for him in my mind. I brush my hair straight, then braid it back out of my face. I wrinkle my nose in the mirror and can't help myself from the imitation: "Hey, Blondie," I rumble suggestively, before ...