Many thanks to Southronstyle for editing this story. It was a rainy Monday morning, the last week of September. I was tired, very tired indeed because I had been away Friday and Saturday at a training camp with my son Martin's hockey team as an " hockey dad", assistant coach and driver of the rented travel bus. We had come home late that previous Saturday...
"Oh Alan, this stuffy old school gives me the creeps." said Dorothy to her handsome Husband, the new school master of the dreaded upper sixth. Alan agreed with his beautiful young Wife, "it is a bit old fashioned Dorothy, rigidly maintaining the 'traditional' school values, as everyone keeps endlessly repeating." They were alone now in the school master's...
Author's Note: This is a continuation of Nighttime Confessions. It can probably stand on its own, but might make better sense if you have read the earlier story first. This is not a stroke story. There is very little sex and a lot of emphasis on emotions. If you don't like this type of story save yourself time and go elsewhere. I had a lot of fun with thes...
It was thirteen years ago that it happened. My husband came home from a business trip to Houston. As soon as he walked through the door I knew something was wrong. My name is Jolene Braxton. My husband Jim, calls me Jo, as do most of my friends. We had been married five years when this occurred. We had a three year old daughter at the time. Susan, our daug...
Author's Note: Apologize for the long intro but felt it was necessary. This is a tribute piece to one of the authors on Lit whose works, years ago, inspired me to stop lurking and try to write something. "One Slip," by patricia51, is a story that has stuck in my head ever since I first came to Lit. Patricia left it open-ended and encouraged other authors to...
Hi, I'm Joe. Yes, I am the same Joe that many of you despise. You despise me because I screwed your wife, and if I didn't screw your wife you despise me because I have screwed so many other married women. I might have even destroyed some marriages, but I do not know that for a fact. Maybe you despise me only because you read a previous story about me. Befor...
Many thanks to Renee and Kent for their editing of this story. * I'm Glen Caballo. I live in a small Scandinavian town and when this story begins, I had a good job as production engineer at a local branch of a big international company. Caballo is Spanish for horse. It was my great grandfather who took that name while he was an actor and found out that his...
Jack Boston was a competent member of the Pottersbridge village cricket team. A good middle order batsman and a good utility bowler. As a youngster he'd even had a trial for Northamptonshire Cricket Club, but it hadn't come to anything. Pottersbridge was a large village in the Home Counties. It was 40 miles from London and fairly prosperous. Jack was marri...
I checked my makeup in the mirror, and brushed a wisp of newly coiffed hair from my brow. Taking a deep breath and swallowing my pride, I stepped out onto the patio. The click of my favorite Manolos echoed in the Sunday quiet of another warm, southern California night. The white satin hem of the long, elegant evening gown swished on the concrete as it traile...
For some, going to spend a weekend with the in-laws would be considered a form of punishment. Not me. I had a great love for my wife's parents. Estelle and Lonnie Pearce were caring and loving people that accepted me from the beginning. They had operated their own cleaning business for nearly 40 years. They never got rich, but they would remind you that t...