Your erotic stories

The first thing that you should know about me is that my name isn't really Betty. Even if you were one of the men that I'd... entertained on Thursday night, you probably couldn't pick me out of a police lineup. That's because I dress and act completely different during the day. I keep my hair pulled back and don't wear a lot of makeup and wear neat but plain clothing, like the successful businesswoman that I am.

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Katherine stumbled out onto the uneven back stoop, audibly groaning under the weight of the heavy-duty trash bag. It was full of crumbled plaster and strips of wooden lathe and swung ponderously, threatening to pull her over with each uncertain step. As her foot slipped on the sloping stone slab she overcompensated and was forced to let the bag drop with a heavy crunch. Catching herself with a sideways grab at the door frame, she slammed backwards into the peeling paint of the old wood siding.

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I told myself I'd never do it again. It's too dangerous, I'd said to myself. There are better, safer ways of getting off. Still, there I was, cruising up and down the street in the seedier part of town, looking for the adult video store, going back to the glory hole. I hadn't been there in a while. I define myself as a straight man, and I've never actually been in bed with a man.

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