Your erotic stories

Her name was Casey Fernandez. She was 34, shoulder-length hair the colour and sheen of a horse-chestnut fresh from its case, deep dark eyes, high cheek bones, a mouth that promised much and (as I discovered) delivered more. We were not exactly living together all the time, which explains how it came about that we had been fucking several times a week for more than three months before she told me about the soirées at Lady T's.

read more

To find the full background leading up to this story readers should read "The Dinner Dance" -- my previous submission. Otherwise a brief summary is as follows: Geoff, my husband, is now completely impotent as a result of an accident he had some time ago, and so his one wish in life is to see me happy. In order to achieve this he almost encourages me to have a good time, and makes no objections to my having other men friends if necessary just so long as I remain medically aware.

read more

Next month I shall be sixty-seven years old. Before then there will be the fifth anniversary of the day my darling Dorothy was taken from me. A merciful release, said people who had known of her illness; and so it was. I still think of her, of course, and that is why I cannot help feeling just a little guilty about the turn my life has taken in the intervening years.

read more