Your erotic stories

"You ready for another one?" he heard his buddy Tony ask. "No man." He responded with a drunken slur, not even bothering to lift his head from the bar. "I'm good." "Where you staying tonight?" Tony questioned. "Probably at my folks house." he slurred in response. "Thankfully ... my mom hasn't ... touched my room since I moved out."

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It was my dislike of hotels that was the problem. I was in the process of changing residences. I'd sold my current house, but the sale went through a lot faster than I'd expected. I'd assumed that it would take a while for my old place to sell and I expected to have actually moved into my new house before the sale was finalised.

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I am a burglar by trade. It's not a bad job. You pick your hours, working as little or as much as you like. No boss to tell you what to do and, as long as your careful, no hassles. Mind you, I have more sense than to put down burglar on my tax returns. I'm a registered second-hand dealer and I do a lot of buying and selling over the internet. As long as I pay my taxes no-one bothers me.

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