Your erotic stories

June 1 7:38 p.m. I'm already fucking sick of this and it's just begun. It's been 13 hours of staring at trees and houses and highway...for what? To get to some stupid resort where the boys can swim and Allen can bitch about how expensive everything is. Don't get me wrong, I love my kids and my husband, but the boys could just as easily swim in the neighbor's pool and Allen can CERTAINLY just as easily bitch about money at home. Besides, I really didn't wanna go on this vacation.

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We had arrived in my husband's home town. It was really a small village with a main street that looks like it came right out of a painting. The town was decorated for Christmas; all the lamp poles had colored lights running up and down them. A fresh carpet of snow blanketed the town; this place could really get you in the Christmas mood.

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"Good thing we left early. We need gas," Angela told her husband, Kurt. He grunted, not happy with the announcement, but taking it in stride. He was nervous. His kid brother was going to propose to his girlfriend tonight, and he'd invited the whole gang out to witness it. So, they were on their way to a posh drinking spot - formal ware required. So, Angela was in a beautiful blue silk evening gown, and Kurt was in a fancy black tie affair he'd had to rent.

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