Your erotic stories

I am twenty-nine years old and have been married for eight years. After eight years of marriage, life has become incredibly stagnant. Wendy spends most of her time at her sister's house. She thinks if she is home while I am here I will spend all my time trying to fuck her, she's probably right. If she is not at her sister's house then she is working part time at the University helping foreign students with their visa applications and finding host families for foreign exchange students.

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I took the job as a maid at the golf resort because, one, I figured I'd be left alone a lot of the time while I cleaned, and two, because what else was I going to do after high school? Work a bar, work a cash register at the feed store, either one I'd have to deal with assholes who poked fun at me for being a fat girl. I didn't consider myself fat, just sturdy. It wasn't because I ate potato chips and candy bars all day, it was just genetics that made me as strong as an ox.

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It had been six years since we had graduated from college, and for the first time since graduation, all three of us were together again. From the enthusiastic hugs at the airport and then the conversation and laughter during the dinner we shared at a local restaurant on the way to my home, it was clear that while plenty of time had passed and we had kept in contact, the comfort and attraction between the three of us when all together in the same physical location was still undeniable.

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The dance music was loud. The club was packed with sweaty bodies, and Karen was thirsty. She moved past gyrating bodies and through entangled couples. The dance club charged a lot for drinks, so she ordered a bottle of water and retreated to a corner. She sipped it and stared out at the dance floor. Karen was a twenty three year old senior in college, finishing up a Masters in communication.

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It was a warm night, the breeze from the ocean offsetting the heat. The moon had risen full over the eastern Caribbean. After a long day of hiking and snorkeling, my wife had gone to bed. I wasn't sleepy, so around midnight, I walked from the condo up the dirt road to where it ended on the cliff. At some time in the past a bench had been set there, so one could enjoy the view. I sat down to take in the view.

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I just about keeled over when I walked into the pool on the Saturday of Memorial Day weekend and saw who this year's lifeguards were. I knew them of course, heck, just last year I'd graduated high school with them and I'd thought I'd never see them again since we'd all headed off in different directions for college! Well, they headed off. I went to the local state University so that I could save some money by living with my parents.

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There was a time when I hated... everything. It was the year 3510 when I was dragged into this existence by my twin brother, Devon-literally. The asshole gripped my hands in our mother's womb and dragged me out with him. He's a black haired demon-god... not really, but I like to bother the fuck out of him with that little line all the time. Pisses him off.

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I unpacked my clothes and supplies in the beachside condo and walked a block to the store. It was late afternoon and I was in a beer mood. I stood in front of the cold case going back and forth, trying to decide what to get. A man and woman were standing next to me talking and laughing about the selections.

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"I sure hope the weather holds," I commented, to no one in particular, even though my wife, Erin, was the only other person in the car. "The weatherman said it was supposed to storm around six this evening." "Yeah, well, he could be wrong." Erin voiced her mistrust of weathermen in general. "It's so overcast. If we get stuck in this storm, we'll be really screwed. I think we're about there. "

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I'm a fifty-two year old guy on a long dreamed of sightseeing trip through the Scenic Byways of Oregon and Crater Lake. Then I'll head up the Coast highway into Washington State to see Mt. Rainier and Mt. St Helen's after which I'll catch a plane back to my home in North Carolina. I'm retired so time is not important at all. I rented the car in San Francisco and plan to return it up at the Seattle-Tacoma airport. (SeaTac)

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