Your erotic stories

Her name was Luann, and before I ended up sitting beside her at the bar of the Madison Grill on an early Friday afternoon, I had never seen her before, even though we worked in the same office complex down the street. If I had ever seen her before that, I would have remembered her, trust me on that. Not because she was incredibly attractive, because to be honest, Luann wasn't, at least not to the average red-blooded American man.

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Her name is Donna, and she's a co-worker of mine who I got to know very well over the course of about a year. While I admit that the initial attraction was physical, when you get to be middle aged, there has to be more than that in order to keep your interest. Fortunately for me, Ross Browning, there was more.

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Chapter One: Unrecognizable. "I don't usually drink," said the woman in the passenger seat, and the voice was just as slurred as it had been when she said the exact same sentence a half hour ago. "I know," I replied, keeping my eyes on the road and being extra careful, because even though I had very little to drink and would pass any breathalyzer test, the last thing I wanted to do was to have to do stupid human tricks on the side of the road for a state trooper.

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