Your erotic stories

After a short courtship, Mara and I married in a small ceremony with only a few close friends and family members present: her mother, my mother and father, her brother, and of course, my son Luke. Luke was 11 years old now, not the best age to go through such a large life change as getting a new stepmother, but then again, is there ever a good age for that? In any case, he was clearly feeling better than he had just after his mother died. He was performing better in school, and he seemed to be bonding with Mara.

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"OK guys, I guess this should be my last drink. It's not even the weekend yet." Dan set the cluster of three pint glasses down heavily on the bar table. His friends grumbled their agreement as they laid claim to their drinks. "Still, we'll make the most of it when it comes though. You out tomorrow?" Nick directed the question at both of his friends.

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College classes are bad enough without falling behind. Between the sheer volume of classes and my work obligations that barely covered my living expenses, it was inevitable that something would give. Biology became the threatened species of my class load. Mrs. Gail Hannity was my Biology instructor. Smart, precise, and really quite beautiful, it was entirely possible that she was a major contributor to my in-class distraction.

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"How'd you like to get hold of that?" Roger Goins asked as he stirred his fresh drink. Roger was one of those guys who always talked about strange pussy, but never seemed to make an attempt to get any. He was too pussy-whipped by his wife, Elaine, to take a chance. Me, I was on the look out all the time—but so was my wife, Shirley. It took about fifty years and four marriages for me to learn that a woman who liked to fuck all the time—the only kind I wanted to be married to—was going to fuck somebody else every now and then.

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It wasn't every day that Andee had the chance to travel for work, but this time was exciting. She had been selected to attend a training session in Denver for a week and she was determined to make the most of the experience. After checking into the hotel, she headed down to the lounge to get something to eat. It was a pretty quiet place, with only a handful of guests sitting at the various tables. Andee found an empty stool near the end of the bar and made small talk with the bartender.

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When Trevor came in to the Environmental Awareness Center at ten a.m. for his Wednesday volunteer shift a new receptionist was on duty. She looked to be in her mid-twenties with long auburn hair, sparkling green eyes, a rosy blemish-free complexion and a buxom chest. "Hi, I'm Trevor Bridges," he said extending his hand, "are you a new volunteer here?"

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The engine ticked lightly, rhythmically, having only recently completed a twenty mile journey. Rain dripped from the frame of the car, from the edges of its bumpers. The windows were blurred, save for the two arches where the wipers had recently swept drops from the tempered glass. The car didn't belong there. Not in that parking lot. Not in that town.

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Kendra Mercer untied the strings of her Missoni bikini and let them fall away from her shoulders, leaving the tiny triangles of fabric perfectly balanced on her firm, perky breasts. She let her body sink into the plush, cushioned lounge chair with an indulgent little sigh. Life was almost perfect. After several years of dating Luke Prescott, the son of one of the most important and politically influential families in New York, she was finally engaged. Kendra glanced down at the 5-carat platinum sparkler on her left hand, admiring the way the sunlight bounced off the diamond.

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I hate it when my wife goes out of town. I am left to my own devices and do not do well under those circumstances. God knows I am too old to hang out at clubs and I am not a neighborhood bar kind of guy She tries to take the pressure off by getting some of her friends to invite me over for dinner, but if she is gone during the week I usually decline. I can find enough work and a good book to get me through the evenings.

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Stuck on a boring conference call in my office, I found myself daydreaming while looking at my calendar. August already, wow! It was hard to believe that it had been almost a year since Patrick and I had gotten married! What with the whirlwind romance and laughably short engagement, I'd only actually known him for about 14 months. But there hadn't been a single moment that I'd regretted my decision. He was a wonderful partner, and our life together was quite fulfilling.

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