A Right Royal Rogering

I didn't see or hear from Heather for a couple of days. My phone was always at my side. It's funny because I always complained about being ruled by a phone and swore to never do it, but since Heather had come back, I kept it close at hand because if she called and Cheri answered there would be hell to pay. I still had no interest in sex with my wife, but I was horny all the time. Ever since Heather and I fucked I was masturbating again while watching porn. I was hard all the time and I constantly looked at my phone hoping for her call. I also felt guilty about it. My wife didn't suspect at all. Or maybe she did. Things didn't feel right around the house. I wasn't sure if it was me feeling guilty or not, but she seemed more distant than usual. She left for work without waking me. She came home from work and buried herself in her bible or in work related texts. I asked her if anything was wrong and she just said she had a lot to catch up on. Nothing more. I worried...

I had quite night last night on the job. The party delivery to Terri's house was very successful in terms of tips and match making. My regular route also proved to be financially beneficial. I might have to write a book on how to make good tips. My first thought for the book title might read like Busty in Leather. It's Saturday morning and time to conclude my Party Planner job, only this time it's to un-decorate Terri's house. For a small fee, of course. Plus, I'm looking for a Ninja outfit to wear tonight on my Pizza delivery job. After finishing removing all of the posters and streamers (and collecting my service fee) I went straight to Terri's closet in search of something that would make me look like a Ninja warrior. No luck in that department so I ended up dressing in basic black. If Suzie can be Goth, then I can be Goth. And because I have the benefit of Terri's closet, I should be able to do it better. Just before our shifts Suzie agreed to paint my...

My wife connects us with old and new friends Part 1: Steve narrates. "Don't you think we're too old for that now?" That's what my wife said. Ellie's face and posture indicted that she had resigned herself to our changed circumstances, even if I still held out hope for a return to the lifestyle we once enjoyed. Ellie had a point. We had not been back to the resort for several years. We hadn't been back since Ellie's hip began to hurt whenever we had sex. When it became difficult for her to walk, Ellie finally decided it was time for her to have her hip surgically replaced. We didn't go out much the following summer while she was taking physical therapy. Her physical therapist had told her that she had made an excellent recovery. Ellie could walk without a limp almost from the first day after surgery and now she could climb stairs with ease. Sex was back among the pleasures we shared together, although we were still careful not to stress her hip. S...

How much of our adult sexual interests are triggered by innocent things in our youth. As a kid, when we ran around in a group and someone would ask what we should do to entertain ourselves, I might say we should go and play in the local playground, then the others would suggest football, and that was it. I always went along and usually my suggestions were overruled. Move forward to teen years and it was no better. "Let's go to the local mall," I would say. "No, let's go to the movies," I would hear, and we went to the movies. Move on to girl friends and even then when I said "movies," they would say, "pub," and we did the pub. If you were to describe me you would give me the "boy next door" tag. Now, just 18, I'm 5 feet 9 inches tall, slimmish, light brown and short hair and not bad looking. No one ever says, Wow," when they see me but then many find me "cute." Why does the phrase "girl next door,"...

"Goodness gracious, Nicky." Kate pushed her son away from her. "Ew. You ... kissed me with your tongue." She slapped him across the face. "That's so, so far beyond the pale." She watched him turn and run upstairs. "You're lucky your father isn't home." She called after him. Her husband was out with his buddies watching the game. Kate shook her head. What was she going to do with her troublesome eighteen-year-old son? ~~ Thump! Nick sat up in bed with a start. Something had hit the window hard. He knew exactly what he'd find if he looked outside his window. That same dead chickadee. Nick pulled himself out of bed, dressed for soccer, and walked downstairs. Every repeated day, his mom had some sympathy for him when he came home after losing the game. And his dad would be pissed if he skipped it. And when his dad was pissed, he wouldn't go out with his friends that night. So, most times, Nick played the soccer game. "Morni...

When he told Henry that one of the Sunday papers was sending him out to interview Sir Basil Wilmington-Grey, the first thing that Henry said was: 'Make sure that you register with the embassy out there.' 'Oh?' 'Yes. In my experience, they're always pleased to see someone from Blighty. And they have some bloody good parties. Not much else to do, I suppose. Oh, and be sure you pack a white dinner jacket. Lightweight. It can get bloody warm out there.' When he arrived 'out there', he checked in at his hotel and then wandered along and registered with the embassy. Henry had not been wrong. They did seem pleased to see him. And, even before he had left the building, some chap was thrusting a gold-edged invitation into his hand. 'Thursday. Seven-thirty. The Ballroom at the Grand Hotel. Overlooking the beach. Salvatore Sabatini and His Royal Caribbeans. We're expecting a good turnout.' 'Thank you,' he said. 'I shall, umm, dust off m...