Your erotic stories

I have watched you for hours. I have watched as you slept, watched while you bathed, watched as you raged against the hated space I keep between us. I have watched you and grinned to myself, knowing that you are completely unaware of the study I have made of you: your habits, your mood swings, your needs. You believe there is no interest there, no need, no want. Your belief is wrong. One day maybe, I will show you.

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I sat in the huge meeting hall of the San Diego Convention Center waiting for the keynote speaker to begin his insightful, though most likely useless, remarks. The hospital I worked for had sent me on an all expenses paid vacation from the drudgery of the nine to five office grind in hopes I'd pick up some gems on how to improve the bottom line. Such gems hardly ever come from keynote speakers. If gems are to be found, it will be in the working sessions later -- keynote addresses are about as useful and practical as your commencement speaker's advice to your class when you graduated.

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The two girls were home for their first summer break since leaving the small town for College. They had parted company for College as they had been accepted into schools in different States. Now was the first opportunity they had had to exchange stories about their new experiences. Tabby had rung Lana the night she got into town. They had talked for hours but now they were going to meet. It had been agreed that each girl would bike to a secluded spot they shared near the river. Many a lazy summer afternoon had been spent on the grass there exchanging secrets.

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Tally knew what she was doing when she was asking me about my experiences with other women. Although they were limited to a fondle here and maybe a lick or two there, they made my fantasies fill with women more then men these days. They also got me very excited talking about them.

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I had been watching my mother's friend, Mrs. Ashlock, for many years. She was about forty-five with a face pretty enough for a movie star and a slender but voluptuous body that was the envy of her friends. I was what they call "sexually precocious," I guess. Women's bodies became an object of vague, unfocused but intense desire at about the age of seven. Photos in popular magazines such as hosiery and swimsuit ads drew my interest and caused an unidentified but pleasurable stirring in my chest. Janet Ashlock, however was real flesh and blood and was often in our home or we in hers.

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I met Penny and Josh at a hotel bar in Chicago. They were in town for a wedding and I was there on business. Penny was a cute 23 year old redhead with a nice thick curvy body. Josh was a typical 25 year old college grad with an athletic build and a beat up Sox hat on backward.

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I was feeling a bit tipsy as I topped off the two glasses and dropped the empty wine bottle in the trash. I had a splitting headache that wasn't responding to aspirin, and I had nothing stronger. "Sandy?" Julie, my best friend, called from the living room, "You put the other bottles in the fridge?" "Yeah, they should be cold by the time we finish these."

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One day I got a call from a young lady in response to an ad I placed for my in-home personal training business. She was just out of High School, and had just landed a job. With her new salary wanted to do something to improve her body. She decided to flip a coin as to whether she should join a gym or go to a personal training studio. Luckily it gave "head" and she chose me.

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Sometimes you just feel safe with someone, even when they're a stranger. That's the way I felt about Kristen. She wasn't a total stranger. She was the R.A. on my floor, but we rarely spoke to one another, except when it was in groups. She carried herself like a real grown-up. I thought she was really beautiful. She looked like the kind of girls in my school that I had secret crushes on. She looked like she'd spent a lot of time out of doors and rode horses.

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It was late in the summer, and I’d been working construction along the LeHigh River, not far from Fontana Dam. A former teacher, I had become used to the cycle of nine months of inside work and three outdoors. This year, my marriage was suffering a bit more than usual as I’d taken a job that separated me from my wife and family but brought in the income needed to support them. I lived on the per diem, stayed in company housing, and sent my salary home.

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