Your erotic stories

When my father died, I blamed my mother. Not for his death – the car accident that killed him was due to bad weather and a teenage driver – but for all of the unhappiness that settled on our home and stayed there after he was gone. My mother locked herself away in darkness, and tried to keep me there, too.

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If you ask me now what I was doing there, I couldn’t tell you. I don’t remember much about that day; where I was going, who I needed to see, even which direction I was headed. The only thing that stuck out was a chance sighting on the subway of the most beautiful man I had ever laid eyes on. He was like a vision from a dream. Tall and slim with delicate, tanned and seemingly hairless flesh that peeked out of the top of a silken button-down shirt.

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