I enjoy other men's wives. I enjoy single women too but there's something special about a married one. Of course, it's that taste of forbidden fruit, knowing that when she opens her arms -- and legs -- to you she is breaking those sacred vows and you are taking something that was promised to another man alone.
The only thing I can't decide is whether it's better if the husband knows or not.
When Gloria first walked into her apartment, she noticed the wet foot print on the carpet instantly. A pinch in her gut became a punch as the back of her neck blossomed goose bumps quickly. The adrenaline was flowing fast through her body as she took a cautious step into her kitchen to reach the phone. She held onto the receiver but did not dial.
I'd had an absolute shit of a day. You know the sort of thing. Everything that could go wrong, did. Even some things that couldn't possibly go wrong, did anyway. By the time I knocked off I was prepared to believe the world was populated by idiots, and they were all out to get me in the stupidest way possible.
We live in a quiet suburban town in central New Jersey, our neighbors basically keep to themselves, usually just a hello in passing as i walked by their house walking my dog. The neighbors are mostly white couples ranging from their mid-40's to late 50's. A few interracial couples but it is mostly a white neighborhood.
I unzipped the bulging suitcase and frantically felt all around my clothes. I pushed down on the top of the pile until every inch of the suitcase had been covered. I felt nothing that would indicate a digital camera was buried inside.
I gazed once more at the carry-on bag I had searched twice already. It was no use. The camera was nowhere to be found.
The club is crowded tonight, and hot. The press of bodies, half-naked and gleaming, is a feast. The warm brush of flesh against flesh is a fever. Bodies clashing and rubbing become a furnace fueling my desire. As I make my way to the bar, threading carefully through the throng, my hand touches a shoulder here, a well-muscled chest there, my bottom brushing against the crotch of someone behind me as I squeeze through a small corridor.
It has been a while since I've written, and I have to admit there hasn't been a lot to write about. Oh, I am still involved with my former boss, I still am dating a couple nice guys, still working and still enjoying life.
At a recent luncheon with my friend Jennifer we reflected on our lives and the little and large things that make us happy. Jennifer has rekindled happy into her personal repertoire since breaking up with Max, a real jerk of a guy. Now she was playing the field, and having a whole lot of fun doing it.
"I just don't' know what to do anymore. She doesn't return any of my calls," my girlfriend Karen lamented as we talked on the phone. "We used to call each other every five minutes. Now all she wants to do is sleep."
"Give her time," I responded, in my usual comforting, but unhelpful way.
He had always watched her as she moved through her various stages of development. Now as she ripened even more, he noticed the sultry full lips, her round breasts ripe and ready to be plucked and the apple firmness of blossoming ass. It was all he could do to stop from staring as this beauty developed into a magnificent woman. Now he felt the familiar tightening in his crotch as he watches her move around the house each day.
One month ago today Mary was raped in her dorm room by Tom, another student who lived in a house off campus.
She had gone a date with him, and it ended in her dorm room. They were making out and moving into some heavy petting when she asked him to stop. She was not a virgin, but she was certainly not the kind of girl to give it away on the first date.