Your erotic stories

CHAPTER 1 It was Friday evening and to be expected the bar was crowded. Two blondes with the strained look that childless women appear to inherit from their divorce, eyed the unshaven guy in blue, noting a soft smile, curly dark hair and green oh so green eyes. They whispered, looking at him. Brent thought of winking at them but that could be misinterpreted. His firm rule was to never pick up a woman in a bar.

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I love him to death. I really do. He's a wonderful husband, and the greatest dad in the world. I've been working so many hours and running back and forth to Chicago that he has had to practically becum the full time dad and part time mom. I regret the time I spend away but I'm becoming more and more successful, more and more renowned and I don't want to lose this. I've faded into the background for much too long; it's time for me to make my mark in the world.

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She is a recent regular at the gym I work out at. I have often revelled in the lovely perfume she exudes when she walks in. Her flawless skin, toned body and distractingly prominent, firm and bouncing breasts have always made it quite a task to avoid noticing her. Particularly because while working out she is always in different coloured, men style body-hugging stretchable sleeveless vests, which are more like appendages to bring more attention to her breasts, that end some two inches above her pierced belly button that has a lovely diamond dangler.

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I am not sure what motivated me. Was I just sick of guys my age? After all, they were immature. And especially, so I have been told, sexually immature. As a sophomore in college, I had only slept with four guys. Well, that is been fucked by four guys, I have fooled around with many others. In that time though I had never had a guy bring me to orgasm. Take a typical night with the last guy I fucked, Johnnie.

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They worked together at the post office. Mike and Sherri sorted and prepared the mail. They worked early mornings and the work was dirty and heavy sometimes. But it did allow for alot of conversation and Mike got to know Sherri pretty well. They were about the same age, late 30's but Sherri was divorced with a daughter. Mike had never been married but fell in and out of love easily.

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Serena McGuire hated boats; that was all there was to it. The rolling beneath her feet, the closed confinement. Even the sea air bothered her, although it never had before. Of course, she had been on a beach then. But the combination now had her stomach rolling along with the waves of the ocean. Her best friend, Isabel Trecher, instructed her that if she would actually spend some time on the deck, instead of in their cabin (which happened to be on the lowest deck, complete with two beds, one dresser, and no window), she would feel much better. Probably, Serena mused, because she would be as liquored up as Isabel is.

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I'm scared, I've been scared in the past so I know scared. Forty something years ago I was a part-time rally driver, back before World Rally Championships in pocket rockets with their roll cages and radio contact to their teams and the myriad safety features designed to protect the drivers, I drove what was little more than a standard road car with knobbly tyres at high speeds through twisty fire trails that wound their way through dense bushland with an equally scared navigator yelling the course notes to me. Believe me that was scary.

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This is a true story. All of the events are written down here to the best of my knowledge and recollection. My name is Will and I work on the Butcher's counter at Sainsbury's. I'm about 5'11, have got a brown crew cut and green eyes. My build was more skinny than athletic, but I'd still call myself athletic, you know how it is. These events took place in the summer of 2002. I was 19 years old.

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Arnold Rasmussin, 42 year old, married white male, was very angry. Very angry. He was the senior accountant for United Foundations, Inc. and he had been passed over again when it came to the assignment of interns to members of the accounting staff. Arnold did not do anything about this. He didn't five years ago when the internship program was begun and he did not each year interns had been assigned since then.

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Joe was thirty-eight and lonely. He was tall, average looking and successful. His problem was judgment. He had given up looking for someone to share with, someone to love and be loved by. How he wanted that. Yet, every relationship he ever had ended when his chosen woman cheated on him. That confused him because he was an attentive lover, a good provider, even-tempered and respectful. Wasn't that what the women wanted?

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