Your erotic stories

"Holy shit." I said it out loud, and stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, mid-step, staring at the picture on my phone. "He's...hot." I scrolled the picture on the screen, increasing the size to get a closer look, noting it was a scan from the back of a book. "Oh, that's right," I thought, "He's a writer." He was definitely hot, for a guy the age of my parents. He had a thin nose and high forehead, dark eyes with fine lines at the corners, and dark hair that fell around his face in waves.

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If you have never been to Copenhagen, I swear you should go. It is a truly wonderful city by the sea. The inhabitants are hospitable, fun loving and to a surprisingly abundant degree, exceptionally good looking. The legend says that centuries ago, Vikings kidnapped the most beautiful women during their conquering visits to Europe, and deposited them back in Scandinavia to raise their offspring, resulting in the tendency for tall, blonde, healthy and attractive generations to follow.

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For the first 44 years of my life, I neither had, nor had considered any sexual liaisons with anyone of the same sex. This was until the following took place: Just to give you an idea of me, I am a tall slim (but not skinny) man, with short brown hair and blue eyes. I was in the car with my wife travelling to a music festival, we were having a row. I won't bore you with what it was about (as it's not particularly relevant) but it was getting quite heated and my wife's driving was becoming more erratic.

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I don't really care much for politics. I'm neither a Democrat nor a Republican. I'm not liberal or conservative. I'm just -- well somewhere between Independent and "I don't give a shit." Therefore some might consider it very strange -- I know that my parents did -- that in early July, 2011, I took a sabbatical from college to work on Republican Colorado Senator June Jepson's presidential campaign. The reason -- I was fascinated by her.

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I slid off my heavy backpack in the shade of a stand of Lodgepole Pine. It was 1980, the summer after I graduated from college. I had put life on hold to hike the Colorado Trail. I had no attachments, no appointments to keep, no place I had to be but on the trail and in the moment.

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I was still getting used to being on my own. My wife and I had divorced almost a year ago and when she packed up and moved out, it was the first time in many years that I had no one else to think of as I planned whatever it is that I would be doing. I had been in a funk recently but could feel that time had begun to work its healing magic and I was getting ready to renter life amongst the living. I had bought my wife out as part of the settlement and managed to keep the house but unfortunately since the divorce, I had lost interest in the yard and it showed.

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I still remember it like it was yesterday. The absolute best night of my life: Hi my name's Logan Jones and this is the story of an event that was so amazing I never forget it. It was a few years ago and I was just over 19 years old. It was my sister's 18th birthday and it was set to be a good one. She and around 15 of her close friends-she was popular at school-were going downtown for lunch at a fancy new restaurant before coming back to our place for a slumber party.

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The first thing he knew after a long deep sleep was a sound. Someone spoke. The words were "Holy shit." murmured quietly but he heard them, and that seemed marvelous for some reason. In that first moment of consciousness his hearing seemed wonderfully powerful.

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I am leaving work about fifteen minutes behind everyone else. I got stuck on the phone and missed the mass exodus to the parking garage. I hate walking though the structure in the dark by myself. Even though nothing has ever happened here, I still don't feel safe. The dim lighting and confusing echoes make me nervous. I walk quickly with my head up, clutching my keys tightly in my hand.

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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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