Your erotic stories

I saw him across the room being greeted by the host. I felt the blood drain from my face. I thought for a moment I was going to faint. I was attending the exhibition of a third rate painter's work, for which, as a freelance journalist, I was to write a review for a minor local paper. I had got sick of the sugary pink and white creations, and was standing around with a cocktail called, I believe, "A Landmine." It tasted of dishwater and kerosene.

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I guess the best way to begin this story is to tell you about myself. I am 40 years old (absolutely true) and a widow with a nineteen year old son. I started exercising about ten years ago and have been able to maintain my figure. I'm 5' 7" and 135 pounds (well, 140) and have put on a little weight in the last couple of years, which is not all bad as it is distributed well and does include an increase in cup size (B to C). As my breasts were never that big to begin with, I don't have the kind of sag one should expect at 40. I can actually get by without a bra.

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