Your erotic stories

I have just finished two long days of wheeling and dealing in Wilmington, Delaware. Before driving home to Philly, I decide to unwind, enjoy a little repast as I wait for the rush hour traffic on 95 to ease. So at 5:45 I enter the Green Room of the Hotel du Pont and am seated in the plush dinning room at a table for two quickly transpose to a table for one.

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Nancy and I have been friends for years. We decided to take a drive down the coast and go to Newport Beach. It was a beautiful day, the end of the summer, school was back in session and this was our last week before going back to teaching school. As we strolled down the Boardwalk, we stopped to watch a volleyball game. "Look at those pecks on that dark-haired guy, Nancy." "Susie, you're a forty-year old woman. What exactly are you thinking?"

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Irene lives over my back fence. She has been alone for most of 10 years that I've lived in this house. Her husband had been the local OSHA inspector who had perished during a routine safety inspection downtown. He was testing the safety cabling around the perimeter of the 18th floor of a high rise under construction, when he tripped and fell into a wheel barrow full of water, knocked himself out and drowned. The story was glorified a bit about having fallen to his death, but I knew better.

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