Sally West had something of a reputation amongst my coworkers for being a bitch. She often would complain about her orders, finding the silliest excuses to call back and make us come back out to her house. The other drivers hated her so much they always took her order last, which of course infuriated her even more. For some reason, though, she seemed to like me; maybe it’s just that I was the ‘new guy,’ or maybe, in light of later events, it was something else.
Regardless, she
I suppose a lot of people would consider me to be a slut now. But I don’t think it’s my fault, really. I mean, what else could have happened?
I was one of those girls who started to flower into womanhood early. I was a skinny young girl who wore a B-cup brassiere when I was still in the sixth grade. I was completely embarrassed by my development. I dressed to avoid showing my rapidly blossoming femininity. Layered clothing became the norm along with a shoulders-hunched-forward
George and Carol had been married for just over ten years. They’d originally wanted children but nothing had happened yet and, basically, the idea had gradually slipped from their minds.
Because they had no family commitments, it meant that they were able to devote time to their local community – especially charitable organisations. George had been asked by two different political parties to stand in local elections, but he had declined the invitations.
George, tall dark and handsome,
I am a 27 years old male, in great shape and pretty damn good-looking if I do say so myself. I have a great job with a large advertising agency in New York City; an office on the 29th floor with a breathtaking view of Manhattan, and my life is going pretty good right now. I am on top of the world so to speak, single and loving it.
“Do I?” I stop shaving and look at myself in the mirror. I have dated a number of girls in the past young, hot, wild. “Mmm.mmm.mmm” I shake my
It had been months since my divorce, and though I had recently started dating again, I was more than just a bit gun-shy about some of the men my best friend and sister had been trying to hook me up with. Only one of which I had actually had sex with, primarily because he had been good looking…and I had been horny.
But that too had been a mistake. He was lousy in bed, looking out only for himself.
Like I had been doing, I then swore another oath of chastity on myself (at least through a
For the past 5 years Katie and I have been dating on and off. We met during our senior year of high school and after a failed attempt at college on each of our parts, we both kind of settled into each other, trying to latch onto some semblance normalcy in our early 20’s Gen X malaise.
By the time we had each hit 23, Katie and I were both steadily coming to the realization we were right for each other. Marriage was something however that neither of us really wanted to give any serious
Hello my name is Charlize Waters. Everyone calls me Charlie. I’m quickly approaching 30 years of age and dreading it. The big 3 0. I’ve been pulling gray hairs out of my hair brush for the last year. I’m also noticing lines on my forehead whenever I look in the mirror. Some might say that 30 isn’t old at all, but you have a tendency to feel old when the majority of your co-workers don’t know who the Fraggles were and can’t legally buy alcohol. I work in a
She came the same time every morning. She would enter the dark stable, her long skirt rustling as she walked. She never smiled and never said so much as a “good morning.” She would ask for her horse and I would hold the reins as she mounted the chestnut stallion. She never needed help getting on the animal. She would throw one muscular leg over the saddle and pull herself into position. Taking the reins from me, she would thank me and then gallop off into the early morning.
I once
I have been thinking a lot recently about relationships and aging. Two obvious reasons come to my mind. My wife and I just got back from a reunion and I had to bump up the age in my Literotica profile. I’m not complaining. All things considered, my wife and I have had a pretty good life. Judging from the events of the last reunion, that’s not about to change any time soon.
This story is about aging and the perseverance of desire. An older man remembers a brief relationship years
It was a brisk Saturday afternoon in Newport, Rhode Island. The wind blew slightly as the strong sun beamed down on the many shoppers frequenting the stores in this quaint New England town. Being August, tourists were everywhere to be seen. While most were there just for the weekend, some had owned or rented summer homes.
In a slightly more secluded area, away from much of the hustle and bustle of the streets, two women sat at a patio table outside a small Italian café.
Sipping away on their
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