Your erotic stories

I know you’re there before I even open my eyes. My senses are so attuned to you, I always know when you’re in the room. I can’t help but smile when I think of your reaction as you find me in bed, asleep, with Casey. Casey and I had been shopping and indulged in a fairly liquid lunch. A bottle and a half of wine later, I decided I wanted to buy something sexy..something that would really knock your socks off.

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The name's Piper. Peter Piper. But I don't pick pecks of pickled peppers. I solve cases. I'm a private dick. That's a detective for those of you who don't know the lingo. A private eye. It was a miserable Friday afternoon. Cold, damp, foggy. The weather was foul. And so was my mood. My bank account was dwindling at an alarming pace. I hadn't had a case in weeks. I was sitting behind my battered desk in my shabby office on the second floor of the Burke building, downtown. Way downtown. I was sitting there and I was worrying. If something didn't happen soon, I was in deep shit. I had bills to pay.

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I had one year to go in my studies, at university, for my degree in public relations, arts, and media studies. I was starting to get a bit desperate for money. All my university bills were due. I was working part time in a coffee shop, but that had more or less stopped, since I had refused to have sex with the owner, even though he offered to pay me 200 dollars. I just did not fancy his big fat sweaty body on mine, and I knew he would want more and more if I agreed.

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"Would you want to sleep with Kim?" The question rang in Mark's brain as he stood in the doorway. The other question in his mind was: "What would you do if you came back and caught me and Kim having sex?" Mark's wife Carol had asked both just a week ago. At the time Mark had laughed and joked that he would join in.

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Moodily I stared out the train window. The day before Christmas Eve. On the platform of the Boston station, couples reunited, kissing and hugging. Mothers cried and clung to fresh boys in uniform as they headed off to basic training. The war had changed things; the place was somber and not decorated much for Christmas this year.

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This is a work of fiction, that does deal with certain depression issues. All people included in this story are figments of my imagination. Any mistakes are my fault, my editor did the best she could with what she had.

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I had just turned 18 in September and for my birthday my parents let me take a few of my friends to our cottage house on the lake, unchaperoned. They felt like they could trust me. And being an A student and on the High honor roll and never really disobeying them, I had given them reasons to trust me. I was the youngest of all my friends.

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At 47 years old, Gary was in great physical shape, and he usually had no problem keeping Cat's hot pussy satisfied. As a fireman, Gary worked 24 hours on and 48 hours off, so he and his co-workers had lots of down time, which they usually spent eating, sleeping, and exercising. They had a state-of-the-art gym with all the latest equipment, and they were the only ones who were allowed to use it.

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"What a conniving bitch" was all I could think. When I had turned eighteen in June my foster mother could have kicked me to the curb but she hadn't. Relief first struck me then suspicion. My foster mother wasn't exactly Mother Theresa, there had to be a catch. It wasn't obvious at first what was really going on. The condition for my remaining was simple, I had to pay my way. Plus she would need a little for rent. No problem.

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I originally thought my idea to get the girls to go camping with us, probably for the last time as a family, was a good one. I guess it was an attempt on my part to reminiscence of days past when the kids were little and we all had such a great time enjoying nature and just being together as a family. But the girls were both in college and things had changed. Amy would graduate the next spring and Emily was a sophomore.

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