Your erotic stories

Why did I wait so long to clean the house? Nikki could be arriving at any time. At least the dirty clothes were out of the dryer, folded, hangered, and out of the way. When you work full-time, with a part-time job, there never seems to be enough time to get caught up on the stuff that a woman will immediately notice. Fortunately, Nikki understands and forgives my controlled messiness. She never fails to mention that I am too old to properly keep a house and should hire a maid. But, I would have to seriously clean before allowing a stranger to see my clutter.

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I happened into an unbelievable experience about a year after my wife passed away suddenly at the age of fifty-three. Since we were empty nesters, after it happened, I had pretty much spent many hours a week at my office where I was away from our memories and the loneliness of our now empty house. As was my custom, I left home around 5:00 a.m. and drove the hour to work stopping about half way to get coffee and a New York Times.

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On January 24, 1965, I reached the mature age of nineteen years and left Michigan State University in a snowstorm. It had snowed more than a foot and the drive south to Baroda took over six hours. I have reflected on that day upon more than one occasion in my life, and still marvel at how seemingly innocuous events can have such far-reaching repercussions.

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Georgie sat at the table deep in thought. It had been six months since she and Tim had been together, six glorious months. At first she had been very conscious of the large age difference, especially when they went out together, but that had diminished over time, especially when she received envious looks from her peers. She loved Tim and would do anything to make him happy, that is why she was sitting in this restaurant.

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I sometimes think that the most unexpected thing in life is the unexpected. I mean, when your life has gone along uneventfully for many years you don’t expect to suddenly find yourself faced with a whole new situation. For those interested, my name is Arianrhod, the name choice of Welsh parents who probably had no idea what my fellow students at school would do with that name. “Ari” “Aria” “Ria” “Anrod” “Rod” are just some of the more polite samples.

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Chapter I Maggie Dantino and I had been friends since 1984. We were attending different colleges in Boston and met while working part-time at Saks 5th Avenue. It was the summer of 1986, when Maggie invited me to her parent's home in Pine Hill, NJ. Her younger brother was graduating from Prep School and her folks were throwing a huge party. Of course I jumped at the chance to get out of Boston for a weekend.

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I hated working nights. My social life was in tatters and I was bored to oblivion. Attempting to give instructions to people who had zapped their computers was like trying to teach chimpanzees to play chess. "Go to start, it's at the bottom left of your screen and then scroll up until you see Control Panel and click it. Yes you have to switch your computer on first." Why are people playing with their computers at three in the morning anyway; don't they ever go to bed?

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I enjoy recalling erotic encounters that occurred during my high testosterone years prior to my marriage. I was an enthusiastic but by no means accomplished swordsman, far from it. The memories of those few successful trysts remain clearly fixed in my mind. For some reason my most rewarding conquests were with "older" women. I have no idea why there was this attraction between some women and myself despite them being 20 to 30 years my senior.

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The early morning flight settled softly onto the runway rousing us from our light slumber, the heat of the day burst into the cabin as the main doors opened and the fragrant smells of the island filled the air. We made our way out, gathered our luggage, & shuffled through customs before we finally climbed into our rental car. Kate navigated as we made our way across the island the small beachside villa we'd rented.

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So the truth was, I'd hired her for her tits. The benefit was, she was sharp as a tack, the heart and soul of the daily operations as it turned out. The fact that Theresa had looks, and like I said a great pair of tits that she (sort of) enjoyed showing off was an obvious factor when I had hired her on. Being damn intelligent and multi-functional, I only learned after she had started working for me. Theresa had an olive complexion, long dark hair with deep-set brown eyes and full lips that were just begging to be kissed every time she looked at you.

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