Your erotic stories

It was odd how I came to work in car sales. I had heard of the wild times after hours. The tales told of men with wads of cash in their pockets - and the women who left those pockets empty - killed many a long hour of standing around the car lot smoking cigarettes and nursing hangovers. If it weren't for coffee, cigarettes and the vicarious pleasures of those stories, I would have had no social life at all.

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Another night in Ely. What a pain. The drive up was OK and Gypsy had made good time, as always. The weather had been clear and she'd pushed along between 80 and 90 almost all the way. A quick lunch, check in at the motel, then off to the prison to see a couple of guys she had been working with. She used to look forward to these little excursions, but now they were becoming more work than fun. Sometimes Tommy would come along, and it would be sexually exciting, sort of naughty in a way.

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