Your erotic stories

Honey, you really need to blow off some steam." Those words, coming from my wife of three months, are seared into my memory, no less so than if she would have branded me. Like any watershed moment in a person's life memories come fast and easy, some good, some not so good and some are a combination. The words came fifteen years ago today, while I was still a young attorney fresh out of law school and climbing my way up the corporate ladder.

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Chapter 1 Okay, guys, you're not gonna believe this but it happened, it sure did, right here in Meridian, Mississippi, another of the many towns and cities nicknamed, 'Queen City.' Well, I've dated a few of the queens here in Meridian and, like in the other like-named cities, some put out and some didn't, some were good at it, some weren't.

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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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