Your erotic stories

If time could be recognized, then we would have no need for clocks or calendars. These things are metres set against a background of haze and dream. The truth of time is that we live it. We breathe in moments and release seconds to the atmosphere where they bound and prance, teasing us before disappearing completely. They taunt us with their ephemerity.

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I guess you never know what is going to happen to you, whether it be good or bad, until it happens. This is my story, and I do hope you enjoy it. In the fall of 1995, still pretty young and going out a lot and having a great time, I happened to attend a fairly boring party at a friend's house. She was a very good friend so I couldn't let her down by declining her invitation.

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My wife doesn't know about my sessions. She can never know. We live a very normal life. Too normal. Our sex is bland. It's always the same thing. Thanks to the internet, I have realized that I am interested in a lot of strange things. Karen would never understand. So I have my sessions with Mistress Nikki to get what I need sexually.

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Night never falls quickly enough on New Orleans. Interesting by day, certainly, but darkness brings the true city to life. The barkers and harkers, bodegos and cafes. The places seeking merely to move money -- from your pocket to theirs. And oh the promises. This night will bring something else to the city of cadence and creole. She feels, rather than hears, the calls for attention ringing and melting together in her ears as she stands looking out her window.

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