Your erotic stories

The roses are blooming in the rather plain jar on my desk. It's a canning jar, it once held pickles I think, like the jars that used to line the shelves in your kitchen. The florist thinks I'm ridiculous for my regular purchase of three roses, one pale pink, two darker pink, but they remind me so much of you.

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After many years of trying to keep up with it, my wife and I hired a Brazilian couple to come and clean our house once a week. They were young, eager, and inexpensive, so we decided it was an affordable luxury, and went for it. They come on Friday mornings, so the house is clean for the weekend, and nobody gets in their way while they are working. As they don't speak much in the way of English, I hadn't really gotten to know them well, although they were quite friendly.

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