Your erotic stories

It was Christmas Eve and the Grinch was on the prowl. He lurked and he crept, and he leapt with a scowl. He landed atop the house of a Who, Little Christmas Loo Who, who would soon turn twenty-two. Chrissie Loo was born on the day of the Who's favorite season, But she despised Christmas for that very same reason.

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I recently rejoined the single world, after my wife left me for another man. (Good luck to ya, pal!) I went out to all the usual haunts, met all the same people, and did all the same things that everyone does when they are single. After a couple of months of that, I decided I wanted something different.

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We've all seem them; an object of nostalgia and whimsy. It is a jewelry box, a place to keep secret and personal things, sitting on the vanity table of a particular kind of woman. There is the lingering hint of some perfume, a subtle reminder of the elegance of it's owner. It is the color of ivory, picked out in silver or perhaps gold, the edges frilled or otherwise decorated to soften the lines.

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