Your erotic stories

About a year and a half so ago my wife Debra decided that I needed to get into better shape. Why wives do things like that beats me, hell it can't be to keep me able to work longer. I don't work at all. I guess it's just because she does love me, it can't be for my money. I don't have any of that, either. I did have money and stuff once, but things I had planned on having in my old age just never panned out.

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The rain continued to beat against the roof and the windows on the west side of the cabin. Paul sighed and rolled over. He didn't know what time it was, but it was still dark outside, so he figured it must still be early. He was muzzy from sleep, but awake enough to wonder what had disturbed him enough to waken him. Usually he slept right up until the alarm went off.

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I walked up the steps, glad to be out of the train station. A hot, humid train mixed with a large crowd is not exactly "the perfect atmosphere". I hate the subway. Men and even women took the opportunity to ogle you and even get a passing touch as they passed you to exit the train car.

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It's been more than a few days since my "Birthday Beach Bang", but I find myself replaying it over and over in my mind. More than once I have awakened perspiring, with my sheets in disarray. I've been reliving that grand adventure in my dreams almost every night. I suppose that my friend Cassie asking me about it almost every day at work might have something to do with it as well.

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To say that I always wanted her, would not be entirely true. I wanted her oldest daughter, Elizabeth, first. I pined for her until my sophomore year in High School (she was a year ahead). I didn't even try to be with her, only a friend and she blew me off, calling me lame, flat along with a host of other insults. With that avenue closed in my mind, I turned to her. She was the mother of my best friend, Meredith. She was forty years old my senior year and the embodiment of female beauty. She was everything I hoped to become.

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The bar was its usual sticky hot, the ceiling fans inadequately trying to breathe fresh air on our warm bodies. The heat lent to more trips to the bar than usual, and tonight I was really feeling the rhythm, loading up on gin and tonics, downing them in my trip from the bar's edge to the middle of the dance floor. It had been weeks since we last spoke. I missed seeing you every night at the bar, shooting the shit, staring at each other, me catching whiffs of your cologne and perspiration.

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I am an engineer, an entrepreneur and a businessman with considerable experience. By the tail end of the dot.com frenzy, I learned enough about business during that heady time to know that as soon as a small company is profitable, those profits turn into growth and growth turns into interest from large companies wanting to break into certain markets. That interest means they want to buy. The margins for small businesses aren't large in most cases, so people make real money by selling the company before it gets too large.

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So many times as a child, then a young man, I walked the few short miles down to the small hill. There was a tall chain link fence at the bottom of the hill, I could have climbed that but I never did. On the hillside was soft grass, the type that never gets really tall, and it is always green, even in dry periods. I never did know what kind of grass that was, at that very young stage of my life I never even thought of it.

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A few months ago, I got an email from the little sister of a girl I know. Her name is April. She got a computer for her birthday. She went online found my email address. I went to grade school with her older sister. April remembered me. She searched me out and surprised me with a letter.

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It was midwinter, and my best friend and I decided to take a weekend trip to my family's cabin in the mountains with our significant others. It was a long weekend, and none of us had Friday classes, so we figured if we took off on Thursday afternoon we could get back on Monday night. Thus, none of us would miss any classes, and we would have a cozy, romantic weekend full of cross country skiing, snowmobiling, and, of course, lots of sex on the bear skin rug in front of the fire.

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