Your erotic stories

The snow continued to fall and Neal was tired from the long drive. However, as he turned onto the road to the ski resort, his excitement built. The mountains ahead of him were covered in white and the heavy snowfall bode well for a great week of skiing. It was spring break of his sophomore year in college. His childhood friend, Cassie, had invited him to join her and her family at their slope-side vacation home.

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She walked through the door, and every head turned. An air of confidence followed her as she strolled through the crowd. She smiled and the room lit up. I was studying a painting until she came up behind me. "Pondering the meaning of this painting?" she asked, a smile playing on her lips.

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I couldn't believe the Cubs lost after being 3 games up. And the Red Sox just suck. I was really looking forward to a Red Sox and Cubbie series. But no. I hate the Yankees only because of the shithead owner. So be it. I will have to root for the Marlins. Anyway, I told my wife the series was coming and I would be watching it with some of my male friends.

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I had gone into Max's to have a quiet drink, it was Tuesday night normally a quiet night, and I just wanted to enjoy a glass of wine. I was tired is had been a hectic last year losing her entire family, parents and her brother. They had died in an automobile accident, nobody's fault just one of those things. It was going to take some time to get used to being alone. She had decided today that she would start looking for a job tomorrow.

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"Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!" Blair MacPherson hammered the BMW's steering wheel with clenched fists, tears of rage and frustration stinging her green eyes. In one moment of anger her career was ruined. She slumped forward against the wheel and began sobbing in earnest. What an awful end to a terrible Friday.

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We had been married for three years when my wife and I took a vacation and traveled to stay with one of her childhood friends. He is quite openly and flagrantly gay and was living with a gay friend, Dan. They were not serious lovers, just two young gay guys who shared an apartment and enjoyed the gay party life together. They were both handsome, openly friendly young men who no doubt made quite a stir at some of the parties they went to.

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Nervously she glanced at the dashboard clock. The digital numbers seemed abnormally bright in the dark interior of the car. Instead of calming her, the music from the radio was harsh and seemed to gnaw at her nerve endings. Irritated, she reached over and switched it off. Silence instantly filled the space left vacant by the retreat of the sound.

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I can't believe what I've become. Six months ago I was your run-of-the-mill middle-aged husband and father, a boring, suburban guy with a nice house, a good job, a bad golf game, and a hard-on for the neighbor's teenage daughter. Actually, not much of that has changed other than what gives me a hard-on these days; no longer is it the seventeen year old next door in her skimpy bikini, sunning herself by the pool on weekends.

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So who said that the "Golden Years" are actually golden at all? I just moved down south to a warmer climate, the shoveling and cold was finally getting to me. It took a few trips to find a place I would be comfortable with. I finally settled in an adult community that promises no screaming kids and the majority of home owners above the age of fifty five.

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I'd inherited a house I had never seen, in a land I had never been to, from a relative I had never met. It was fortunate, plus or minus the un was still to be seen. The house stood solitary, proud and ram shackled, near the edge of the sheer, steep cliffs. No it didn't look foreboding; however it didn't look welcoming either. This was to be my new home?

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