Your erotic stories

It was pouring rain as I pounded on the door to my best friend's house. The lights weren't on and her car wasn't in the driveway, but I was so enraged that I didn't care. I was about ready to give up on the door and just crash through the front window when the light in the front hall came on and the door flew open. "What in the hell..." Ashley's dad looked furious until he saw me. His jaw dropped as he looked at me, and he was silent for a moment. "Nicole, what's going on?"

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What a lucky kid. I thought as my son bustled through the door of our entryway. He was laden with bags of luggage, grumbling about how he had married an overpacker. His wife followed him carrying two suitcases, her blonde hair falling in her face. The pair bustled up the stairs into the spare bedroom. I walked out to their Lexus and saw they had gotten most of the bags in. There were just two left. A brown suitcase in one hand and a black gym bag over one arm and I was in.

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September is a lovely time of the year in Sydney. The winter chills have given way to a blissful warm sun, but the full blaze of the summer heat has not yet arrived. It is about this time each year that my body clock decides it needs some rays to shake off the winter blues. Luckily, I have a wonderful little beach within decent walking distance of my home.

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"Here we are -- home, sweet home," announced Amber as the car pulled up out the front of a battered old caravan down the far end of the park. "Looks great," I said, getting out of the back seat. "Homely. Looks like it hardly would leak at all in a storm."

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