My name is Dave, I'm 18, 6'1 and muscular. When I was in high school, I became friends with this kid Jason Simms. We hung out playing games at my house the typical things high school friends do. One weekend Jason invited me over to his house to sleep over. I've never been to the Simms household before. I met Jason's dad John outside in their garage. He was pretty cool guy hanging around some guys fixing a truck and drinking beer.
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This story, to my shame, is absolutely true. To save embarrassment to Helen, I have changed her name and some of the smaller details that might give a clue to her real identity. I don't know who will read this and would hate for it to get back to her and cause any difficulties. I met Helen on line. Her handle was "Lady of Kent". The chat line was a free forum, I can't remember which one it was now and it doesn't really matter. Just that it was the vehicle that brought us together. We chatted over several months, slowly discovering little snippets about each other, developing an on-line friendship and enjoying each other's point of view.
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The damp spot, again. Rachel stood in the middle of her living room, large eyes surveyed the furniture in a sweeping arc, taking in the expensive carpet, the beige leather sofa, coffee table with its customary one or two magazines carelessly strewn on the polished ash effect top. Jim's television sat brooding and silent in the far corner, silently observing her return to her home after so long. Her reflection dimly mirrored her image in the black glass. A still, thin figure, dressed in jeans and a shirt as it surveyed the room. The television was Jim's, he bought it on a whim, not discussing it with her, just rubbing his hands together like Uriah Heap in anticipation of the delivery truck.
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I was looking to tease her from the off, it had been quite a few dates now and more and more the topic of sex had popped up in conversation, it hadn't been coincidence, she'd been deliberately doing it and she was practically gagging for it although she did disguise it well. I was going to engage with her sexually the next time we met. I invited her round and we began to watch television, it was mediocre and boring but as soon as the adverts came on the screen. I came alive, I clambered on top of her on the sofa and began to straddle her.
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It was the end of July and my usually predictable lifestyle had been disrupted, albeit pleasantly by a third year biology student called Amy. I had been single for a year and that was a long time for me. Suddenly one reaches a certain age and the urges are still there but the opportunities seem to grow fewer. I had been with my ex girlfriend for three years. I was forty one when I had met her. The shock of turning forty had passed and I felt good to be in a relationship. However, three years tested my inclination of not being monogamous to its limits and for one reason or another we fizzled out. Now, at forty five I was looking for excitement.
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The summer of 2012 was remarkable for two reasons. There was the Olympic Games and the euphoria engendered by that four yearly spectacle of human achievement and then for me, there was Amy. While the former attraction was all over and done with in two weeks - not counting the paras - Amy hung around for a while longer.
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Well my job was based around exercise which was why I love my job. I love exercise, I love the burning sensation run through my muscular arms as I lift the weights and ignore the admiring advances of the women in Lycra to my left, I focused purely on pulling this heap of metal up and down until I was completely sapped of energy. After month after month of consecutive gym sessions on a daily basis, I was approached by a sharp looking woman in a business suit who proposed that I should become a personal trainer. I mean I get to exercise more and the gym was my social habitat; one that I thrived in as I could return the seductive gazes and join in with the banter thrown around but I didn't have any other alternative so I bit her hand off.
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Abby had just moved into this apartment building about six months ago, and was just about settled in. It was a pretty quiet building, no noisy neighbors, no late night parties. Most of the people who lived there were young single professional types like her. The one great thing about her apartment was her downstairs neighbor. Gwen was maybe five or six years older than Abby, and a total slut. She was a beautiful brunette with a tight body. She loved to dress provocatively showing off lots of legs and cleavage.
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It was my last client of the day and I was dreading it, I could see the snow beginning to fall against the window and I knew that if I wasn't carefully, I could end up being snowed in at work and I couldn't think of something worse. I did decide however to make an effort as I lit the candles and let the aroma of vanilla drift through the air and fill the room. The room was nice and warm and I was ready as I stood there in my plain white uniform. I heard the bell ring which indicated the door had been opened and stepped out expecting to be rubbing the muscle of yet another strapping young lad who'd pulled something whilst playing some sort of exercise but I couldn't have been more wrong!
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"Dangit" Melissa thought to herself. "I walked out without my fucking phone." It was one of those Monday mornings for Melissa. She was going to have to drive all the way back home to get her phone. It was a little after ten-thirty so at least the rush hour traffic will have died down. Melissa is a forty-four year old, recently divorced mother of a twenty year old daughter who is home from college for the summer. Melissa imagined that Katie would probably sleep until noon, so she'd just slip in, grab her phone and not disturb her.
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