Your erotic stories

I don't remember my first months at the convent. They say it was trauma amnesia. I was 7 years old when I was left there after my parents were killed in a car accident. I can not complain about the life I had there. It was better then an orphanage. The sisters taught me everything that a girl should know. Cooking, cleaning, and traditional education. I grew up knowing I was loved. It was my eighteenth birthday when Mother Superior sat me down to explain that it was time for me to leave.

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A glorious night in London. My first glimpse of London - how alive it is at night! A light meal following some sightseeing and people-watching. I had a delightful concoction of beef, chicken, and mango at a Chinese restaurant. The theater - a thriller with a twist and a lesson. A rambling stroll from Trafalgar Square to Piccadilly.

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