Your erotic stories

Several years ago I was a COP, a policeman in a city of about 250,000 in North Carolina. The DWI Checkpoints and enforcement had just started to gain popularity. One part of that program was to assign officers to work the streets on DWI Patrol, rather than checkpoints. We were assigned to different sections of the city or to watch a particular bar or nightclub.

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Edwin was definitely not the sort of guy I fell for. Not even close. I fell for wild boys who partied hard. Boys in black leather jackets with lots of tattoos and rings in their noses. The bad boys, the loud boys, the boys who knew where to find the best parties on Friday and Saturday nights. I knew they were trashy and rude, but I liked it. I couldn't help myself.

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He was the perfect gentleman. I'd been working at Junior's, an old fashioned ice cream parlor in the tourist trap part of town known as The Riverside for a couple of months. He came in at least once a week, had a single scoop of chocolate ice cream and always he made me laugh. His name was Craig. I'd guess his age at about 50. He looked his age, but in all the right ways. He had thick hair, black at one time but now going white.

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I saw the low rider coming up on my rear end fast. I moved over into the right hand lane to let him pass. I saw the gun barrel protruding from the rear window and saw the flash of the first shot. I laid over in the seat and let the car go on its own. Two more shots were fired and both of them hit me. I heard his engine race as he accelerated away. I sat up and gunned my car towards the nearest hospital. Staggering into the emergency room, I collapsed on the floor in a pool of blood. The world went away. I'm dead, was my last thought.

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My sister Kathleen is a real bitch. I don't know where she got the idea that she is the center of the universe, but she acts like anything she does is the most important thing going on. Everyone has to do what she wants, and she gets all huffy when they don't.

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It has been a while since I've written, and I have to admit there hasn't been a lot to write about. Oh, I am still involved with my former boss, I still am dating a couple nice guys, still working and still enjoying life. At a recent luncheon with my friend Jennifer we reflected on our lives and the little and large things that make us happy. Jennifer has rekindled happy into her personal repertoire since breaking up with Max, a real jerk of a guy. Now she was playing the field, and having a whole lot of fun doing it.

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"..And last but not least, Professor Douglas White," I said, making a gagging gesture with my finger as Suzie and Jennifer exchanged glances. We were sitting on the floor of Suzie's room, discussing our classes which began tomorrow. We had always spent the night at each other's houses the night before the new school year started, and our senior year was no exception.

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I'm your average 49-year-old guy from Indiana sitting on someone's couch in Michigan who I just met only a day ago. Standing in front of me and looking down was someone that I spoke with online only recently and he was unbuttoning his pants and smiling at me as I watched him. I'm average, just short of 6 foot tall and weighing about 175, I run every day.

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First of all, Nathan King ruined my life. Let's start with that. I was in business school, like the good little WASP that I was. I was going to be...I don't even know. I was going to wear the good suits, though, send my interns out for my coffee and send them scattering with a look if they got my order wrong (venti non-fat iced chai tea latte, they'd murmur to themselves in fear).

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Being thirty and already developing a beer gut, I began working out at the local gym. And since I worked nights, the equipment was readily available, which was cool. No crowds. After a month or so, I got to know some of the regulars, mostly retired guys, some into their eighties, God bless them! Mostly it was just to say hi, but a few became as regular as clockwork, so I sort of bonded with a guy named Abe.

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