Your erotic stories

Part One: Backstory There are many up-sides to growing up without a dad, but dealing with your mom is not one of them.... To say that my mom loved my dad would be the understatement of the century. They were married just days after they turned eighteen and actually walked down the aisle together at high school graduation. No one had ever seen a couple so in love.

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The tickets were originally for my mother and her close friend. They were set to go on a cruise ship and explore different exotic islands during the peak of summer. Unfortunately, mom's friend had a last minute issue at work, and she had to cancel a few days before the trip was supposed to start. The tickets were non-refundable. My mother tried to find someone else to go with her, but since most of her friends are also lawyers, none of them could go on such short notice.

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I. I could feel the heat of his shaft inside; its sultry shivering mass filling me up - I could feel a steady warmth spreading from it, and the skin of my spine responding with atomic quivers. I almost begged for the moment to last just a few moments more; but did not complain when it moved onwards.

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"Babe the reservation is for 7pm, hurry up and get ready" she snapped. I had been working a lot lately, so much so that I always seemed tired and rarely payed enough attention to her. We had only been dating a handful of months. One day while working out I had spotted her on the tread mill. With every step her body seemed to move and shake in the most perfect ways.

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The fact that Terry was married had me wondering just what was going on. I knew from talking to her over the years that I had known her, that she had been a wild child at one time. Now, here she was, telling me about the foursome, she and Lonny had had the month before last. I had the feeling that there was more to this than readily met the eye.

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From the moment I read her ad on the message board I was hooked. Here was a woman who loved the thing I loved most. "GS" or Golden Showers for all not so educated. As I felt myself grow hard from just reading her words, I knew I had to contact her. I sat at my desk and the words on the screen blurred. I was transported back to my first time. I had met June in a bar that I frequented.

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This is a work of fiction, set in a very real time period. I have tried to faithfully present this remarkable point in history, in both the details and historical accuracy. This tale is not meant not be revisionist history, nor even speculative "what if". It is meant only for enjoyment and I hope it fits that billing.

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This trip was to be our honeymoon since we were still in school when we were married two years ago. Probably the getting away for just a week was a honeymoon enough. When people asks us about our honey room we smile and say, we had it two years before we were married living together.

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John glanced at the clock on the wall. It was nearly 6 in the evening, and Gina, his beautiful bride, was expected home shortly. He placed a bookmark in his novel and rose to check on dinner. He could hear the pasta happily bubbling away on the stove. Moving towards the oven, he flicked on the oven light and bent down to look at the pork roast that was slowly cooking its way to perfection. John and his wife had one rule for their marriage: The one who does the cooking gets to control the events of the evening for the same amount of time as it takes that person to make the meal.

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Kirsten did not show up for my class the next day, Friday. I have to admit, I was somewhat relieved, still somewhat jumpy and completely in shock as to the feelings that she had elicited from me and totally terrified by the potential ramification of what had occurred. I left town for the weekend, trying to escape the loneliness of my house, as well as the looming danger of further action by Kirsten. When I returned home Sunday night, there was a bag by my door.

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