Your erotic stories

We had been married for three years when my wife and I took a vacation and traveled to stay with one of her childhood friends. He is quite openly and flagrantly gay and was living with a gay friend, Dan. They were not serious lovers, just two young gay guys who shared an apartment and enjoyed the gay party life together. They were both handsome, openly friendly young men who no doubt made quite a stir at some of the parties they went to.

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Annabelle's cotton sheets have ducks on them. They're not made of as nice of a material as the satin I'm laying on now, but the ducks are so cute and so her. I can imagine Annabelle's face when she'd determined that I stood her up on New Year's Eve. I feel so horrible and so cold.

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I'd love to say that it started out innocently enough, but there really wasn't anything innocent about it. I had been working as a software trainer for a small computer consulting company in Georgia, and my job was to train the clients on the computer systems that we sold them. One of those clients was a group of people from an industrial machinery company. Among the people in this group was a secretary who was undeniably cute.

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When I started driving some years ago, I recall my dad's repeated warnings about keeping plenty of gas in my car. Well, as this 19-year-old sat on the gravel shoulder of a rather desolate foothill highway after running out of gas, the last thing I wanted to think about was my dad being right, as usual. It didn't seem that I would have to worry about anybody coming along this road at 1 a.m., so I figured I might as well bunk in my car until daylight.

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My heart seems to falter when she walks in the bar. I vaguely hear my friend Samantha, who reluctantly dragged me out tonight, yell at me from a few feet away. I don't make any movement though. I am staring at what, until this moment, was only a dream. My friend finally fights her way over to me, muttering something about me being deaf and all I do is nod forward.

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Rachel took one last look at herself in the mirror as she finished getting ready to leave. She and her friends, Molly and Jennifer, were going to the local Renaissance Festival today and Rachel was determined to look her best. It was the first time she was going without her parents and she was determined to flirt and play to her hearts content. She loved how the people who worked the fairs were able to make almost any comment suggestive.

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Spots of dappled sunlight streamed through the trees and danced and twirled on the pavement as I waited for her outside the building. She was always late, frantically trying to keep up with her life. Not that I would ever want her life, I snorted to myself. Immediately regretting the thought, I focussed on the distant rush of traffic echoing softly through what had to be the last quiet street in Brisbane's central business district.

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It started with a break up. The college whatever relationship, three plus years, came to its inevitable end. And though it comes with freedom it doesn't come without pain and uncertainty. So I decided to get the fuck away from her and myself, or that is, the me I was with her. Didn't even want to know that person. Either of us. So unload the bank account and move.

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I hate it when they keep moving stuff around. When it comes to things like fish or produce, I find better quality at the local health food chain store. But the produce department here seems to like to move things around from week to week, I guess to create a more seasonally appropriate display. But I'm a pragmatic man, and I like to find things in the same place.

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"Welcome home, Jane." My wife greeted me as I walked through the door and into the warmth of our home. She was zipping up the coats of our three year old son, Andrew and our five year old daughter, Julie. "Thanks, babe." I replied, going over to kiss her. Then I gave kisses to my kids atop their hatted heads. "And where are you little rascals going at this time of night?"

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