Your erotic stories

You are finally coming into town. You said for business, but I don't care what the reason, I am just glad to finally see you. I race to meet you at the restaurant. There are butterflies in my stomach. We have chatted and talked on the phone for so long now. So much flirting and longing to be with you. When I arrive at the restaurant, I see your truck is already there, and I start to feel a little better. When I get inside, I scan the room for you, and see you stand up and motion me over to your table. You've been keeping an eye out for me and you smile as I get close to the table.

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When Jenny and Allen moved in next door I thought they were the ideal couple. They at 32 were about 25 years younger than I, he tall, about 6ft 2in, blonde good looking, she around 5ft 5in slim, a tumble of soft brown curly hair, a face that lit up when she smiled and an effervescent personality; a typical Australian couple.

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I first met her in High School and like most High School friends we lost touch over the years, about 40 of them to be exact. We got back in touch on one of the Class Reunion sites and started talking again. Reliving old memories as we laughed at the silly way we dressed and hairstyles and such. It was a great pleasure to become new friends with her once again.

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Nikki loved her job at the diner, although the pay was light and the hours heavy. She knew most of her customers by name, and counted most of them as friends. She also knew that their off-color comments, while generally sexual in nature, were delivered with no offense intended. Her breasts were a modest b-cup, and she often wished they were larger, but her ass made up the difference. It was an ass that men's dreams were made of.

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For those of you who haven't yet run across it, there is a web page whose name shall remain anonymous which advertises itself with this logo (which I've paraphrased to maintain the anonymity): "Where Models meet Photographers". So, basically, the web site is patronized by gorgeous models, the lucky bastards that photograph them, and lurkers. I haven't modeled since baby pictures at Sears, I don't own a camera that's not a disposable, so that puts me squarely in the 'lurker' category. Hey, it's a hobby.

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It had been six months since I'd moved in next door to an amazing lady. She was in her early to mid sixties, had a vibrant warm personality, and immediately befriended me showing genuine concern after my divorce. Madeline and I became good friends. I very often stopped by after work to check on her, see how she was doing, and generally on the weekends, did a few odd jobs for her. Having Madeline as a friend, someone to talk to, made the days easier to deal with and not quite so lonely.

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Cal Benton turned his Honda CL350 off Interstate 70 at the exit that said "Sawtooth Mountain, 10 miles," and stopped the bike on the overpass looking back toward Denver. Only 50 miles to the west, he was already well into the front range of the majestic Rocky Mountains. He sat silently staring back toward the plains, reveling in the snow-capped peaks and vast valleys that spread behind him.

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I was watching a movie the other day, with academy award level acting by the way, where a housewife fucks the plumber when he came by to "fix" the pipes. It reminded me of a role playing situation, I found myself in quite unexpectedly one night. It involves me, a certain man of whom I had a very active sex life with (two guesses for my fans), and

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"Tomorrow's the big day, right Mom?" "Absolutely, Megan. We need to get these two guys on our side regarding the Bankhead drilling project. They're the last two pieces of the puzzle as far as I'm concerned. You know what to do?" "Anything they say. Or want," Megan replied. Amanda smiled. She was the thirty nine year old CEO of GIC Corporation, an energy supplier throughout the northern United States. Their scientists recently discovered an oil and natural gas supply that would keep them in business for decades.

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Sorry that it has been such a long time between stories. I have enjoyed reading thoughts about my first two stories and getting to know some of my "fans". This particular story happens as the summer months die down and the autumn winds arrive turning all that is green into oranges and brown. I had recently returned to Knoxville to pick up some more of my things from my husband's house (I say husband because at this point we are only separated, not fully divorced).

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