Your erotic stories

Going to try for a long chapter after this one. The events I've written for now aren't really conducive to length without getting overly tedious. Thanks to those people who submitted comments. I really appreciate the input. Lastly, I've been told my transition between perspectives could use a little work, so any tips or suggestions there would be phenomenal.

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I'm hearing words I never wanted to hear again, ever, in my life. Biopsy. Malignant. Cancer. I can't for the life of me remember leaving the doctor's office, but I'm sitting in my car, key in the ignition, door open, one foot on the concrete, and I can't breathe. The wound on my breast is throbbing, as if it knows that what was hidden beneath the flesh had evil intentions.

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When I was a kid my best mate was Dean Kelly. As so happens with these things, our mothers got to know each other when they would pick Dean and I up from school, and they too became friends. I would stay over at the Kelly's place and Dean would often stay over at our place. The Kelly's had a pool and so summers were always more fun at Dean's house! Dean and I were on the same touch football team as well and so our families started to go on outings with each other, such as picnics, hikes, football and cricket matches, and the occasional camping trip.

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I want to say a quick thanks for all the response I got on the first chapter and sorry for the long delay in between these chapters. It's a story that's been in my head for a while and I just wanted to get some of it out of my brain and into the world. I started writing it all out of order and have been very slow in getting the pieces all connected how I want them. I'm hoping there won't be quite as much downtime between chapters from here on out...

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'Honey, get up!' Leah repeated as she struggled to wake her lover. Hayley was an adorable little thing, much more so when she was cocooned in their bed covers. But this wasn't the time to be admiring little nymphs! Leah scrambled to the window yet again. Hayley's parents were getting out of their car. Shit!

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He was going to kill me. Not merely an idle thought, but quite possibly a fact considering what I was about to do. I was treading not only the very distinct line of our abstract relationship this afternoon, but perhaps straddling the damn thing, erasing the permanent marker with the lacy tops of Chinese silk stockings, fraying the edges on the constitution of our very own sexual etiquette.

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When my wife quit working to have our first child, I secured a second job as a doorman/security guard at a high-rise apartment building about a half-hour from our home. The Bayview Towers was six stories high with a total of 60 apartments. The main floor consisted of two business apartments, management office and maintenance facilities. I would work there for about three years.

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"Fuck is that the time, I have to go" he said pushing back the sheet and climbing quickly out of the hotel bed. "Why, what's the hurry?" I asked sitting up my full tits flopping around all over the place. "Oh bugger," he said as he caught his fingernails on the bathroom door. "I er, um, promised my son I would pop in this evening." "What for, it'll be very late?"

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"What do you think of him," I asked, pointing to an older man with a combover. "He looks like he won't spit on our food." "Ugh, I hope not. He looks like the kind to talk about his grandkids to us for twenty minutes and then forget to take our order."

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I named him Frank, as in Frankfurter, because he was a schnauzer, and as kids, we called them frankfurter dogs. It had been 2 weeks since I found him huddled out by the trash cans, shaking in the cold night air. I brought him into the garage, which was a lot warmer than the 15 degrees it was supposed to reach, held him in a towel to stop his shivers. I had a few cans left over from when my brother stopped by with his dog, Mangy, and Frank went at it greedily.

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