Your erotic stories

Dave was sweating. The sun was warm but not uncomfortably so - it felt considerably milder than the sun back in Orange - but dragging the bag along the street probably hadn't been the best idea. It was well-suited to the task but the route he had decided to take to the hostel he was booked into was rather longer in person than it had seemed on paper. As he trundled down 33rd Avenue, he espied some shady greenery which turned out to be a park.

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It was a feeling more than something I saw. But I paused and took a slow look around. No one was looking at me and the only other customer was a lady about my age pushing a cart through the Produce department. There was that young man with the tool belt sitting on the floor working on one of the display cases. On the back of his jacket it was printed "Jakes Air-condition and Heat." However he seemed to be engrossed in his work.

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Monday Harold stood at the door and looked around. On the flipchart at the front of the room someone had written 'Management Skills for the IT Environment,' so he was in the right place. There were probably twenty other people milling about the room or already seated at one of the tables, some were talking and others just staring into space. Everybody looked so young. Harold felt out of place. He took an empty seat at a table near the back and joined those staring into space.

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I'm Brad, 27 years old, 6 ft 2 in, 190 lb, brown hair, and light blue eye. I exercise regularly and am in reasonable shape. Lola Monroe, my partner, is 48 years old, 5 ft 4 in, 115 lb, short and dense blonde hair, green eyes, short nose, and high cheek bones. She is a positive person with a bubbly personality. Lola is in good shape: a relatively flat tummy, plump-34C boobs, narrow 22-in waist; she also has a flawless complexion. Besides inherited good genes, couple of times during a week, she played doubles tennis and exercised on a treadmill at home.

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I couldn't help notice my neighbor when we were setting up our stalls. For one thing, hers was right next to mine. For another, her compact, curvy frame moved with efficient grace as she set her paintings out for display. The big thing, though, was her cropped hair - an elegant cap the color of burnished steel. That, plus a face full of laugh lines (and a few others) really set her apart from the generally younger crowd of artists setting up for the fair. Having someone my own age right there made me feel a bit less ancient.

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An old Army friend of my husband showed up one day out of the blue. Norman had just bought a business hear our home town and came by to say 'Hi." To my husband. That is how Fred and I became interested in RVing. Norman sold motor homes and travel trailers over in Ohio just across the state line. We visited Norman at the sales lot and Fred was hooked on this as the only way to travel. So we bought a new motor home with all the bells and whistles. We also found out about snow-birding.

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"Kathryn?" I heard her sigh. "Yes Mike, it's me. Kevin is fading, he may not last the day. Will you come?" "I'll call back just as soon as I can confirm my flight. Hold on." Kathryn was his old personal assistant, but was more than that. She was more like the mother he never got to have. While most walked around him fearfully, she chided him for scaring the employees.

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Standing at the mirror, Sandy brushed back the stray hair from her face. Then she stepped closer and frowned at the reflection looking back at her. When did the wrinkles appear? Had they always been so deep? Her friends told her she could pass for 40, but she knew they were just being nice. The mirror didn't lie, and it was telling her she looked every one of her fifty-one years.

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Fading autumn sunset caught the trees as I left the bus. Waited to cross the road, thinking about the last night I'd been with him. Her husband, and my closest friend, Allan. He'd died a few days later, a heart attack in his grim bedsit, during one of their periodic separations. I strode across the park, my head in confusion. Our evening would be difficult enough for me, but I couldn't begin to imagine how hard it would be for Betty.

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Life certainly has its ups and downs as everyone can attest to. It just feels like my life has had more downs than ups over the past few years. For instance, my parents had been killed in an auto accident three years ago when I was twenty-three. A semi-truck had veered into their lane when the overworked driver fell asleep at the wheel hitting my parent's car head-on. The doctors assured me that they had died instantly, which was a blessing I guess.

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