Your erotic stories

You never know a woman How much do you know your partner? Even in later years, contrary to popular belief, new things can and do happen. We have been married now for many years, enjoyed each others company, grown together, produced our children and basked in the love of our grandchildren. Without giving too much away, our eldest daughter is thirty five and mother of four boys.

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MEETING GINGER AND SHARON Justin had recently moved into a complex of townhomes and apartments in Charlotte, NC. It was a popular singles place that had amenities and activities conducive to active people. Justin worked for a small consulting firm and he used his townhome as his business location. He had two bedrooms and he set one up as his office. Whenever he was not at a client site or on a sales call he worked from home.

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I met Tracy my senior year at The University of Texas in Austin, what we all considered to be the 'real' U of T. She was a year behind me and was also a business major though she was headed to finance and I was aimed toward marketing and advertising. So, she was a numbers drone and I was a 'flack.'

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He was sitting on the couch opposite me, wearing only a T-Shirt and trunks. Beer in his hand, champagne in mine, we were talking about anything that mattered and everything that didn't. We were just enjoying relaxing together, having a laugh. As I was listening to him tell me one of his funny stories I placed my feet on the couch beside him. I ran my hands along my legs till I reached the top of my knee high stiletto boots.

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"Oh my God," he moaned as he slowly woke, wishing he hadn't. Zac Knight's head was throbbing; a hangover, first class. Slowly, gently he rolled onto his back. He waited while the spinning stopped. His tongue licked dry lips. His mind refused to work, so he shut his eyes tight to try to doze off. He could vaguely recall last night; party, Halloween party. Fragments of recollection, some gorgeous blonde, arrogant bitch, bit of an argument over ... over?

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I loved days like today. It was hot and the humidity was rising, as a storm was ready to come ashore. We were walking side by side down the shore towards our private beach. I enjoyed our walks like this, I felt so close to Jon, and even closer to the sea. I loved our life. We have been together since we were both young, our lives seemed to mesh as one.

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"I think you girls should go topless. After all, we guys do it all the time," I joked to my friends Carmen and Tracy. The three of us and my good buddy Dave were relaxing in our cabin's hot tub after a long day of skiing. "Sounds good to me!" Dave agreed eagerly.

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My phone buzzed. Looking down at it, I saw that it was a text message from Emma. Looking in the rearview mirror, the blue and red flashing lights of the state trooper that had just pulled me over spiked into my eyes and the high beams made my eyes water. Pushing the button on the phone, I read the message. 'Where are you?' it said.

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"You're late." The steely tone in Amy's voice let Graham know he was in trouble, that was her "Don't-mess-with-me" voice. "I'm sorry, traffic was murder." Amy Welles didn't like people being late, it was one of her Pet Peeves. Graham knew full well it was a flimsy excuse and Amy would call him on it.

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Michael Powell was exhausted now. He lay very still, taking small, shallow, quick breaths. On his lumpy single bed, staring at the cracked, white ceiling of his room, Michael recounted the events of earlier that night, in his own private mind movie. He took one deeper breath, closed his eyes and smiled. He opened them again and reached over to pick up the toilet roll from the floor at the side of his bed.

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