Your erotic stories

I am nervous as I walk up the stairwell. The sound of my shoes scuffing each stair reflects off the dingy once-white walls of the narrow hallway like an insistent warning, telling me to turn around and walk away with every step. Yet I continue, pursuing my chosen course with the same timid determination that has carried me through this day. Ever since I came out to my car and found the note tucked underneath my wiper blade.

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Last summer, I was on a vacation with my girlfriend, Olivia, and her parents, Grace and Steve. It was morning and Olivia was out fishing with her dad as I lay in bed watching the cable news and having a bit of a playtime with my hand inside my boxers, when Olivia's mom walked in, wrapped in a large towel from her shower, looked at me, laughed and asked, "Taking inventory, are we?"

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Some say that rain is a sign of peace when a loved one passes on, but on this day it simply steeped the sadness that comes with an untimely death. The dark clouds loomed above like a spiritual ceiling and occasional claps of thunder jostled the mourning family. Because it was late summer, many people were on vacation. Many close friends and even a fair amount of the family were not there.

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Chapter 1 Okay, okay, let's get the laughs over with right now. "Short" career? Just how short is it? Ha, ha. Okay, ready for the real story now? My name is Marty Green, I work for an advertising agency as an account representative so I'm basically a prostitute. I knew you'd say it if I didn't.

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On the morning of my 30th birthday, I ran through the hospital doors to the desk, found out Dad's room number, and rushed to him. He was sitting up in the bed, not looking too much the worse for wear, actually. I peppered him with worried questions, but he tut-tutted the whole thing. "Just bad stomach. Something I ate."

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Chapter 1 Over Christmas and New Years, our neighbors took a holiday in the warmer climes, I certainly can't blame them; here in Wisconsin, it's cold. Their son, Rick, who'd just gone off to college, was not expected to be around with any consistency so they asked me if I would water plants and bring in the mail and such which I was happy to do.

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Christ, I can't believe it was that long ago, already...seems like yesterday. OK, let me elaborate. It was a Friday afternoon, and I got a phone call from an acquaintance, asking if I wanted to check out a concert that night, in a city a couple of hours away from here. I was up for it; I was just finishing off the last of my dissertation, and could use a break. I told her I'd meet her at a coffee shop near the venue.

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I was brushing my hair in the small dressing room of a unisex bathroom when my new father-in-law's brother walked in and strode up to the facilities behind me. A commode and a bit further away a urinal were attached to the wall. He stood in front of the commode. An impossibly loud ...Z-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-P... echoed in my ears as he opened his fly. This couldn't be happening.

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My wife, Peg, and I were invited to my sister-in-law's for Thanksgiving last year and we always tried to accommodate her, first, because she's my wife's sister and, second, because she's a widow having lost her husband in the Iraq War. She and Peg have always been close, there's just a year and a half difference, Janet, being the younger one.

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I had a good job. I was the editor and part owner of a weekly newspaper in Waverly, Kansas. It was a town of about 1000 souls, settled after the Civil War by a group of pioneers from Ohio. In fact the main event of the year was a large gathering in a clearing on the edge of town and it was called Old Ohio Days. I had a good house, a modest three bedroom bungalow within walking distance of my job. I had two good children who had long-since grown up and moved away.

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