Your erotic stories

I was always amazed at how someone from my past unfailingly seemed to turn up on opening nights of exhibitions. It didn't seem to matter which city I was in, some old school friend, long lost family member or an acquaintance from the photography fraternity seemed to find the ads for my openings in the small print and turn up to say hi.

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A pit formed in my stomach. I felt like I had been punched. I stared in disbelief at what I had just read in the paper. Under the obituaries, it was all there: her name, her photo and the details of very full life. The memories came back. She was a part of my past; a good part. I reread her obit. I was alone on my back porch overlooking my garden of colorful flowers, native shrubs, and manicured trees. She had sparked my love for gardening.

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"You are joking. Please tell me you're joking?" I doubted my mother understood the desperation in my voice, but I was disgusted and disappointed. How could she do this? "I'm not joking Chris." My Mom was still calm, oblivious to reality as usual. "I told Megan to call you. She'll be in town next week and I thought it would be wonderful if you could take her to dinner. It's not like you have this busy social life and you can't fit her in. You're always telling me that you don't get out enough."

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Let's start out with a joke this time, to evoke a light-hearted mood. The guy goes to the check-out counter of the supermarket with a salad for one, a pre-wrapped sandwich, and one can of soda. The cute young clerk eyes his purchase and says to him, "You're single?" The customer grins and nods his head. "You can tell by my meal, huh?" And the girl says, "No, you're fuckin' ugly." It was that round, tight, perfectly sculptured bubble ass that caught my eye in aisle six of the Food Lion in Fairfax, Virginia.

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I lay in the bathtub, watching steam rise from the warm water. I should have felt relaxed, but I did not. I waited apprehensively. Nothing could calm my nerves. Not the dozen candles that lit the bathroom. Not even the New Age CD that filled the room with the comforting sound of the ocean washing against the shore.

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Jenni Adams parked her rusted pickup behind the Harper house and killed the engine, sat at the wheel as an east wind brought rain over the steep shingle roof and drove it hard against the windshield. The surf would be big today and she anticipated a fight getting through the waves. She wanted this moment to last, sitting perfectly still, letting the urge to swim build inside, the anticipation almost sexual. For Jenni, a lot of things were almost sexual.

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About two weeks after my sensuous and successful aptitude test with 'Manon', the company which provided discreet escorts for ladies. I was contacted by Ron Vincent, who told me to call at the office the following evening as he had my first client. I had already spent some time with Ron, getting a few pointers on what would be expected of me. He also had me fitted out with a couple of outfits, a smart dark blue suit and a more casual jacket and pants, with shirts to match.

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Eva looked out her bedroom window. She had heard the gate to her driveway being opened. It was Jim, the son of her best friends Alice and Mike, arriving to mow her lawn. Eva was a fifty five year old widow, living alone on the outskirts of a small college town. Her husband Eddy had passed away three years previous. Eva was only now beginning to pick up her life following the death of her soul mate. God knows what would have happened to her without the support of her friends and their son Jim.

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MATH TEACHER, MRS. ROGERS I was adopted by a loving couple and raised in a small town in Northeast Ohio. When I was 18 years old in high school, I developed a strong interest in math mainly because I had a very good teacher, Mrs. Pauline Rogers, who also was an attractive lady: about 5'2" and 120 lb, blonde, firm boobs, and slim legs. When ever I was close to her, I tried to inhale her intoxicating perfume. I worked hard to please her, who I guessed was about 35 years old. In turn, she was glad to have one male student interested in learning math. There were rumors that Mr.

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I had been with the company for three years and thinking about leaving until I was transferred to a mid-size Rocky Mountain town. For me it was a dream come true; out of the city, fresh mountain air, and plenty of open road to ride my bike. Being 28 I had been into road bicycles since college and I was a weekend racer. In my new environment and with my new job, that had me out of the office most of the time, I could ride virtually whenever I wanted.

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