Your erotic stories

Suzanne and Kate sat at a table on the deck of the ski lodge cafe. They had finished skiing for the day, and were watching the slope where their husbands were making a final run. Suzanne's husband, Mark was a big man who plowed through the mogul field, his legs working like pistons as he raced down the slope. Kate's husband, Tim, almost danced through the moguls. He often said that he didn't care who got to the bottom first, as long as he skied with style.

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The cool autumn air took my breath away when I stepped out of the dorm building for my evening run. I paused for a moment to consider whether I needed another layer of clothes. Second-guessing my running attire has become a habit by mid-October. I decided that I would warm up quickly once I got going. Still, I now wonder whether things would have been different if I wore something less revealing that night.

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