Annie Daniels sighed softly and paused at the large steel-and-stone gate, then accelerated to glide up the hill. Tall statues of cement cast spooky shadows on the ground, and she shivered as she killed the engine and stepped out into the slightly chilly air of early evening.
She made her way hesitantly to the fat gravestone a few yards away, a sunflower clutched in her hands, which she lovingly placed at the base of the marker. "I miss you, Matthew."
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It was going to be a long day, as Saturdays usually were. The weather was beautiful outside, which made me all the more bitter for being stuck at work. Library patrons always seemed more demanding on Saturday afternoons and doubly so on nice ones. They'd simply wave and beckon on me to attend to their needs. A dude has a to have a pretty strong stomach to deal with some of these people. The homeless people and the whores are always hooking up in this place.
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"Harry; I really do love you but no I don't want to get married." Harry looked at me with big sad eyes and I only smiled. Harry and I had been dating for a few days when I let him bed me. He's near my age and was very good at doing what we were doing at the time. I am quick to climax and I am some what vocal when I do. Harry had never had a women show how much she enjoyed his charms before this and he thought I was the one for him.
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I've had my share of lovers, but there's always something special about the first. Here name was Eve, and this is my ode to her. This story takes some time to develop, so if stories like that aren't your cup of tea you might want to skip it.
I'm not sure where to begin, so I guess good place to start would be to describe the principle people involved and a bit of their backgrounds. First, a little bit about myself at the time. I was eighteen, and still a virgin.
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My business partner Les and I have been mates since we were 13-year olds at school together. We lived a few doors from each other, we went on booze 'n' birds holidays to Spain together, we were best man at each other's weddings, and my wife and I are godparents to his daughter Becky. Stella and I weren't lucky enough to have kids of our own, but we only live a short distance from Les and his wife Irene, and Becky has almost been like our own daughter.
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Misty lie in bed, her hand between her long legs with two of her fingers deep in her steaming pussy. She moved them in and out as fast as she could go. Her other hand toyed with her firm breasts and nipples. She needed to cum so bad every inch of her body was on fire. She had only been with one man in her young life and he didn't know the first thing about pleasing a girl.
"Please, cum!" she moaned as her hand began to tire. She'd been fingering herself for close to an hour with no sign on an orgasm.
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I am a man that was still in his thirties, even though I had raised a child that was eighteen when she finally left home to move in with a girlfriend and start college. I had dated (and had a very steamy sex life with) her mother, Maria, while we were in college ourselves, and she had gotten pregnant in our second year together.
She had been nineteen and I barely twenty when she gave birth to a baby daughter, Briana.
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This was my time, I decided. I always had to look good for him, so I stayed in shape. At 59, I regularly heard that I looked much younger, and that was always a welcome compliment. I mean, I feel younger than 59. I think of my mom at 59 and she was in housecoats, or frumpy bland clothes. I preferred vibrant colors, current trends.
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Lisa closed her eyes and tried to remember every second of her dance with Craig last night. They had been at a small dinner party at the beach. She had gone with her mother and hadn't dressed to impress anyone. After all, everyone there knew everyone else. What she didn't know was that Craig's wife had passed away since she had seen him last, and this was supposed to be his first outing since the funeral.
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I didn't think too much about it the first time I saw Merrill and David together. After all, one wouldn't make a connection would one: she, an almost-thirty-three, high-flying tax lawyer and he a high school student? They sat chatting in the late afternoon sunshine on the low stone wall that separates my garden and that of David's parents. They weren't even facing each other; more shoulder-near-shoulder, facing in opposite directions, with their feet in their respective gardens.
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