Your erotic stories

If you've ever been to Eighth Street in Manhattan you must have noticed the shoe stores. Hundreds of people, tourists, NYU students, serious shoppers, surge into and out of them every day looking for bargains. Every language you can imagine is heard there: Japanese, Hebrew, Arabic, Spanish, you get the idea.

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The smell of lilacs permeated the air as MaryBeth strolled out onto her veranda with her morning coffee. MaryBeth was a long lean golden drink of southern womanhood. She was at almost fifty a tribute to good breeding, good habits, and a great plastic surgeon. Newly divorced her libido frequently got the most of her. Today was no exception.

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