Your erotic stories

Chapter 1: Off to War I can't remember the last time I heard the rain falling this hard. The cold wind dancing through the window, slowly brushing up against me as I laid on my bed looking up at the wooden ceiling. Every now and then the wind would bring along a drop of rain making it land on my leg. I watched it tentatively as it ran down leaving its legacy behind.

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It was my first time at a sauna, but this was a weekend of indulgence in Amsterdam, the city of sin and I wanted to make the most of it. I wanted to do all the things that I didn't dare to do back home in England. So here I was, nervously paying my entry fee and collecting my two towels.

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It was a Wednesday night, which was two for one rental night at the local adult video store. I picked out a couple of European titles from my favorite director. His films usually featured exotic locales, stunning eastern European babes, and lots of anal. I brought the empty cases up to the till, and the clerk moved over to the drawer where the actual DVDs were stored and retrieved them. I completed the transaction in the usual fashion; minimal words, averted gaze, the slightest tinge of embarrassment for being in the shop in the first place. 

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I'm really lucky...I have hippy parents who had good business sense. We grew up comfortable, on the fringes. I got a great education, decided on some business classes and finally earned my massage and physical therapy degrees. My parents semi-retired from the Chinese supplement import business. I took over and maintained my practice on evening and weekends: I could afford to see only the clients I wanted.

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I met Penny and Josh at a hotel bar in Chicago. They were in town for a wedding and I was there on business. Penny was a cute 23 year old redhead with a nice thick curvy body. Josh was a typical 25 year old college grad with an athletic build and a beat up Sox hat on backward.

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I mostly cruised the personals because that's how I got my kicks. If I was feeling sexually frustrated, I would leverage the vast power of the internet for the grist that kept the wheels of my libido turning. Still images, movies, erotica, text; it was all there and in every niche. Like all solitary perverts, I fantasized about having a partner who would fulfill my personal needs. But I was a miserable romantic partner and realized, at my core, I was a lone degenerate.

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Sex with my wife had been as hot as ever since my first massage with Alex. I wouldn't say the experience has directly made our sex life any better or worse but I do feel a more confident. My concern that is would alter my sexuality was unfounded. I still found my wife extremely attractive and arousing. My wife has a great body and I look upon it with lust every time I see her. I was comfortable that I wasn't gay; despite having had what one would have to admit was a gay experience.

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The events of this story happened at least thirty years ago. I lived in Virginia at the time in an apartment complex made up of about a dozen buildings of eight apartments each with each two apartments sharing a common stoop. The residents of the building in which I lived were all very nice people and besides myself and another guy were all married couples. Most evenings would find several, if not all of the residents sitting in the front of the building talking, drinking beer or wine and generally having a good time.

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The moonlight creeps in through the window behind me, casting a few shadows across the room. Mixing softly with the candle light being thrown from the flames on the dresser. I lay back on the chaise lounge, naked except for a small smile on my face. My breathing already heavy and labored my fingertip idly plays with my hardening nipple.

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She was sitting at the bar, dressed like a nun compared to the majority of the other women around. It was Vegas, baby, and the outfits ranged from the slutty to the half-naked. The woman I was interested in, and maybe it was the outfit that did it, was all business. Charcoal black suit, white blouse open at the throat, blazer draped over the back of her stool.

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