Your erotic stories

I started calling tattoo and piercing parlors after we hung up the phone this morning, and I found one in Orlando who sounded promising. It was Dungeon's Tattoos, owned by Master Michael. I had to ask carefully about what I wanted to know because all the kids were around me, but we managed to communicate well enough for me to find out it would be $35 for the piercing. He said under no circumstances could I be drunk during the piercing, so I got directions and called Cindy at work.

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When I was a younger man, 20 years ago now, I was just 68 and I lost my wife. That same year Edna lost her husband. She was 81 or 82 at the time. Our houses were across the street from one another. She's gone now but I remember her well. I enjoyed her company as she did mine. We always found things to talk about. Our relationship kept the wolves of loneliness at bay and illumined the approaching darkness that would spell the end of our twilight years. And as it turned out, she retained a lively interest in and enjoyment of sex.

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A good friend of mine referred me to this great Italian restaurant in a city about 3 hours from where I lived. I asked him, "What the hell makes this place so special that I would be willing to drive 3 hours?" He told me the service was worth the trip alone, and the food was even better. I took some time to think it over and a few days later I called to make a reservation. The person on the phone asked my age, and if I preferred smoking, non-smoking, or the cigar lounge.

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