Your erotic stories

"Three weeks? You've got to be kidding!" Mark couldn't believe it. "Yea, I know, I can't believe I got the time off," Deacon replied. "You know how Howle can be. But he's making me do a few hours of stock taking tomorrow, which is the most boring job in the universe!" "Hah, you can't speak shit about him now! He is your new God," Mark laughed. "This is gonna be so great - no parents, no girlfriends, no responsibilities; three whole weeks of men behaving badly!"

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(Author's note: This fantasy happened some time ago. Long before STDs were a known threat. If the time of these events were more recent, certainly safe sex precautions would have been followed - and recommended.) * After a long, hard, aggravating day at my job, I packed my bag and went to the Gym for a stress reducing workout.

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It started as a joke really. We were roommates and had been hanging out having a few drinks at a late night spot in town. Paul, myself and Adrianne. It was late and we were well into it. Anyway, a friend of Adrianne's at work was getting married and she wanted to have a bachelorette party for her at the apartment. She wanted to have something fun and wanted us out for the evening.

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I looked down between my shoes. I could see a candy wrapper and an empty firecracker casing floating in the dirty puddle between them. I reached down and picked them up, tossing them into an empty bag with the few kernels of kettle corn that I hadn't finished.

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I went through my mid-life crisis recently, but instead of buying a Porsche or a 800 inch flat screen TV or fucking my twenty-two year old secretary (although it was tempting) Instead I decided to get back in shape. I was an athlete in high school and college, but in my thirties work, family and neglect have added a few more pounds than I was proud to admit.

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Just a little background on me, this may help you to understand my stories better. Then again it may not. I am a white male who grew up in the suburbs, in a nice quiet neighborhood. I went to a private school my whole life, and I guess you could say lived a somewhat sheltered life. My upbringing was a catholic one, which meant everything was a sin or wrong to do.

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I became a homeowner for the first time at age twenty-two. It was the summer before my senior year in college and my grandmother had just died. I expected she'd will all her money to my father – her only child. Grandma came through though and left me over two hundred thousand dollars. Although I thought about buying the most expensive car on the market, going to Hawaii and all sorts of other things, I realized that I could buy a house for myself and put apartment living (which I hated) far behind me.

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Everybody's got a first time story. Being a 33 year old divorced guy, I thought all my firsts were long gone. You know, my first blowjob, my first fuck, my first older woman, my first three-way; I'd had some good times but I figured the rest of my sex life would be pretty run of the mill. On the downhill slide you could say.

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There was nobody special I wanted to see at my ten-year reunion, but I went anyway, and was pleasantly surprised. It was a fun evening, and I collected a few phone numbers of people I hoped to reconnect with later. As the evening wound down, I ended up at a table with an old friend, drinking beers and talking. Keith and I had played in a couple of bands together in middle school and high school.

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I woke up to find a strange man looking into my bedroom window on the seventeenth floor. Fight-or-flight kicked in first, and I jerked awake, sitting bolt upright. My body didn't know if it should leap from the bed, or jump into a fighting stance. And then my brain caught up and noticed two things at the same time.

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