Your erotic stories

This year Jean and I celebrated our thirty-sixth wedding anniversary. I pause occasionally to glance at my wife, when she first crawls out of bed in the mornings with her white curls all tangled and snarled, or when she lays a loving hand on one of our grandchildren, and there is not one thing I would alter about her or our life together. Our hands unconsciously intertwine, even now, when we walk through a shopping mall or when we stroll along a deserted beach.

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