Your erotic stories

I came in from work about noon on Friday. I had been gone for a little over two weeks. Pulling in the driveway, I noticed that my daughter's car was gone but her best friend's car was parked in front of the boat on the far side of the carport. You talk about a pair to draw to; those two were it. My daughter is tall, dark, and slender, Sissy is even taller, blonde, and equally as slender.

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I hear a car horn. I am out of the house in a moment. The front door slams behind as I take the front steps two at a time. When I reach the car, I open the passenger side and slide into the seat. "Hello, birthday boy!" she says. The soft orange glow of the streetlight doesn't illuminate much, but I see she is wearing a plaid mini skirt and a white shirt. She has neglected the top three buttons.

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It's another day in paradise here in South Carolina. Sunny and hot, a little too humid, but nice for tennis. My girlfriend and I were hitting balls on one of the beautiful clay courts at the resort where we are spending a week together.

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It was another long night at work. Apparently there was some event going on, a charity thing. Word had it that there would be a lot of cigar smokers there. Great. A lot of grumpy old men throwing their money at Nicaraguan orphans. Not that I have anything against the orphans. It just means I am going to have my work cut out for me. I had drink detail. Even more fun for me.

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He was laid to rest in the crowded little graveyard adjacent to the small Anglican church on the fringes of the Kyrenia Harbor in Cyprus. My mother had shown no interest in interring him in the States—or even in attending the burial ceremonial in Cyprus. But I thought that, in any event, this was a fitting place for him to be buried. This was where he belonged. He had taken his stand here and lived the last decade of his life here. I just wished I had been part of that last decade. Of course, that was as much my fault as it was his.

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I looked out from our patio above the trees at the end of the garden and saw that the clouds were gathering fairly quickly. Thick purple towers were rapidly developing in the north and I predicted that a real good rain would be hitting the house soon. It would come as a relief since the morning had been uncomfortably hot and a good storm would always bring a welcome cool to our house.

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At 7pm sharp Michael pulled up in front of my door in his brand new range-rover. I smiled as I opened the passenger door and lifted the hem of my dress to get in. He was looking as gorgeous as ever in pants with a shirt and knitted pullover in case it got cold later. One of the benefits of dating older guys is that they know how to dress well, I thought to myself. I'd made an effort too, in heels and a cute little printed summer dress that was the result of a recent bout of retail therapy.

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I paused, and looked back down the track I had followed up the hill. The Downs in high summer have a special quality. The sweet smell of bracken, the softness of the rolling hills, the cool and quiet of the patches of woodland, the hum of the insects in the hot sunshine and the tracks leading mysteriously away from the ridge path through the brilliant green of the tall bracken. They are places of beauty whatever the season but most especially in late July.

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Parents of children who play travel sports make tremendous sacrifices for their child's love of the game, but they also reap immense rewards. The most obvious sacrifice is the amount of time and money that is spent traveling; you could go months at a time without an unscheduled weekend day, and many of your weekends are spent in hotels. But with all the time away from home, you are usually in the company of your children's teammates and families, which leads to the formation of close relationships that can last a lifetime.

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We left the car by the side of the country road and headed off towards the forest by the familiar path beaten into the earth. Tall summer grass paraded beside us as we neared the edge of the woods. Wrens, finches, robins and red-wing black birds played all around us while crickets sawed their legs together. The pillowy clouds were a little grey, and light rain was forecasted, but it was too perfect a day to let go to waste because of a forecast.

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