Your erotic stories

The events in this story happened a few years ago when I was 26 years old and living in Washington DC where I had moved to take up a new job. It was my first time living by myself. I had always had room-mates since finishing grad school a few years earlier. But now, partly because I felt I was ready to be my own man, and partly because I didn't want to go looking for room-mates in a new city, I decided to get a place for myself, a nice little apartment in a high-rise not too far from downtown.

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I saw her the first time as a lonely figure on the bench overlooking the harbor. She was staring at a big luxury cruiser. The Symphonia was leaving in a couple of days' time for a voyage to Italy, and that would be my last part of my trip before flying home to Amsterdam. I was drawn to her by her classic beauty. She was a small girl . From local colored or Cape Malay decent. Beautiful, light chocolate features. Big brown eyes staring into the distance.

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Her husband Alex's car had barely pulled out of the driveway when Michelle Adams' phone rang. She had the day off work today; a substitute was teaching her classes as she had errands she desperately needed to run. She was going to meet Summer after and share a little lunch and maybe some fun. Alex didn't mind if she and Summer hit the sheets on occasion, he liked her auburn-haired girlfriend and their first threesome had been with Summer a few years back on their first anniversary.

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A torrent was falling straight down in lazy sheets. It was the heart of rainy season, and Mother Nature showed truth in advertising. I would have just stopped right there on the trail to wait it out had it not been for the fact that it would have resulted in being stuck on an unmapped "road" -to use that term loosely- after sundown. Driving in the dark through the jungle was a good way to get stuck in the mud or, worse still, a flash flood.

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It had been nearly two years since I lost my wife to a drunk driver. Dating at twenty is a bitch, dating at fifty... well, let's not go there. I had a lot of friends, and that helped, but to be honest, porn and hand jobs were no replacement for the twice a week sex I was used to for the last twenty five years. As I said, dating at fifty is a bitch, there aren't too many choices in a small town, even a college town like the one where I teach.

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Kurt was nervous. She was meant to be there in fifteen minutes, it was quarter to six now and the movie started at six-thirty. She had told him she would be round to pick him up, it would just be easier that way. He had put on his favourite shirt; Navy blue and plain, he wore it everywhere he went and didn't feel the need to dress up tonight. He was also wearing his oldest pair of jeans, held up by a belt he had just gotten the week before, Kurt despised shopping and even more so when it was for pants.

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Zarah's eyelids fluttered as she moaned softly, waking up to a pounding headache... what had happened last night? She only remembered having two drinks, not nearly enough to be hung over... She stirred gently, and only then noticed that her movements were strangely restricted... Her eyelids flew open as she suddenly took in her surroundings, her eyes locking on wrists wrapped securely with rope and attached to leads bound to the bedposts of the big four-poster bed in which she lay.

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Security guard isn't the most glamourous job in the world, but it suits me fine. After all, who else gets paid for sitting around watching a monitor all night? It's a bit monotonous, but it gives me time to think. You can go into a kind of zen trance watching all the nothing going on. Lately I had been working this university gig – campus cops. It wasn't bad. I got to walk around a bit, and the worst I had to do was break up a frat brawl or escort a panicky girl back to her dorm.

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I don't know why I did it. Okay, that's a lie, do I know, at least I think I do. First of all, it's fun to be seen as a sex symbol. Not as a porn star, hell no. I'm not a slut. Okay, maybe a wanna-be slut, but I'm a good girl. I didn't go to a Catholic school, but I was raised Catholic and I still believe most of it, okay?

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Chapter I: Fall 2010 Smooth. Her skin was so smooth. It felt like silk and smelled like the earthy cologne she wore and underneath it was her; the scent of her skin, clean and warm. It meant whatever fragrance she sprayed on would never smell the same on someone else. Something in me reacted to her aroma; it made my body wake up and stand at attention.

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