Archive for the 'Partner Stories' Category
Kenny was nervous as he stood at the back of the chapel. He’d been to other funerals, but this one would be different. The chapel wasn’t full, but it was well filled as the soothing music ended and Bob Fuller walked up to the casket.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Bob began, using the lid of the closed coffin as a lectern of sorts. The low murmur of conversation ceased. “Rick McCleary asked me to say a few words here, and so I’m speaking to you now. I knew Rick and Anne well, but not so well as I would have liked. As most of you know, Rick knew he was going to die more than a year ago, and many of you know that this last year has been harder on those of us who know Rick than it was on him. I don’t know that I’d have the strength to take things in the calm way he did, and I’m sure I’m a better man for having known him.
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read comments (0)The music was loud but it felt good. Everything shook with the beat. It was dark, and shadowy, crowded with people. Some dressed normally, others, in skimpy outfits of leather or lingerie. Some had on leashes, others wore sequins.
She smiled to herself, thinking how funny people were, the things she’d seen them do. But then look what she was doing. She was out in a club like this by herself. None of her friends would go. When the bartender gave her the drink she ordered she turned to scan the crowd. Almost immediately she noticed the tall blonde man at the far side of the bar, partially in shadow, his gaze centered on her. She gasped at his look, like he was going to leap at her across the bar and devour her whole. She turned away,took a drink and made her way to the ladys room.
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It was a sticky August night, and truly what I felt like doing was lying in a cool bath and reading a magazine, but my boyfriend had just called, and he wanted to “show me something.” Great. Well, that’s part of being a girlfriend I suppose so I slid into a pair of cutoffs and a t-shirt to wait for him. I was sitting on the front porch, rocking the swing and listening to the crickets when a police car drove up. The red and blue lights flashed a moment, and looking closer, I saw that it was indeed my rookie cop boyfriend, grinning from ear to ear at his long-awaited, finally issued police cruiser. I couldn’t help but to be happy for him; he’d been on the waiting list for three months now, so I bounced down the stairs (literally, I wasn’t wearing a bra) and leaned in the window to give him a kiss. He was all excited, giving me a deep kiss before telling me about his newest police toy. He patted the seat next to him, “Come on, let me take you for a ride!” I nearly protested, seeing that I was barely dressed, no shoes, and oh, what the hell. I locked up the house and jumped in the front seat next to him, bare feet and all. He talked animatedly as we drove around town,heading vaguely in the direction of the desert mesas a few miles beyond the city limits, his hand idly stroking my leg. I was leaning up against the passenger side door, legs stretched over his lap as I watched him. You have to understand now, my boyfriend is drop dead gorgeous, and seeing that muscular 6′1″ bod in that extremely sexy black police uniform is enough to send me spinning. So I couldn’t help it when I started rubbing his cock gently through his trousers with my foot. He laughed and guided the police cruiser down a little used desert road, stopping about 100 yards from the nearly-empty highway. “You’re feeling excitable tonight,” he murmured, leaning forward to capture my lips with his.
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“It is now safe to turn your computer off.”
I had just finished answering my last e-mail. It was to Bronwen one of the fearless leaders of the erotic writer’s guild. (Which I am a proud junior member of.) I had made a post to our Internet newsgroup that I was going to Lake Tahoe for a week, and she had asked me if going to Lake Tahoe was a good thing. I thought that it was. Even if I did had to do some work, I’d get some skiing in too. So I had responded; I’ll let you know when I get back.”
“Shit” Janet cursed as she noticed the flashing red lights in her corvette’s rear view mirror. Eight o’clock on a Sunday morning, not a car on the road, and some dumb ass highway patrolman had to clock her doing better than 80. “I’m fucked!” she thought as she pulled the car over to the side in response to a quick burst of the police cruiser’s siren. “One more moving violation and there goes my license.” If only she had left school last night when she was supposed to, then she would’ve had no problem making it to her parents house for Sunday Brunch. But no, she had to go to the party at the Alpha Deta House and get ripped. She had awaked about 6:30 A.M. with both a frat boy laying next to her in bed and a colossal headache. She’d quickly showered and dressed, hoping to make up time on the road to avoid another of her father’s lectures. A lecture about family responsibilities would be nothing now. If she got her license suspended again, he’d promise to take away the car she’d gotten for High School Graduation last year. As she watched the state trooper exit the cruiser, a more terrifying thought ran through her. What if he ran a breath test on her, with all she had to drink last night she might not be able to pass. That would get her license more than suspended. She had to get out of this ticket. Janet ignored the Trooper’s approach and quickly moved to the glove compartment for her papers,determined to be the very model of cooperation and sweetness. “License please,young lady.” said a deep masculine voice. With a bright smile on her face, Janet turned to face the Officer, papers in hand. Her mouth dropped open when she got her first good look at him. Behind the mirrored sunglasses and tan uniforms was a tall, muscular black man - dark as the midnight sky.
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She seemed to change almost dramatically from the moment she put on the outfit. More sensual. Almost animalistic. She swayed and glided as she moved, leaving no doubt in anyone’s mind that she felt more alive and incredibly sexy. It was a simple design in black and silver. A chemise style top with spaghetti straps, fringed as it neared her waist. It allowed her natural cleavage to show nicely. The skirt was a wrap around with a single snap closure. Knee length but fringed up about nine inches to show off her legs just enough. Underneath was only the black garter belt and matching stockings. Then there were the shoes. The shoes were originally the focal point. Four inch black satin spikes with a bow at the heel. Scattered rhinestones covered the bow and below that was a strip of black fringe and rhinestones.
…It’s after midnight now, and I’m sitting at the top of the stairs,looking down the stairwell to the couch in the living room where she is laying asleep (or is she?). Shawna is stretched out on her back,peaceful and serene: one arm crossed across her belly, her head turned towards the living room window. The curtain is parted,allowing a shaft of pale moonlight to illuminate her face and upper body. She’s wearing her favorite Mickey Mouse night shirt, but sometime during the evening she kicked off the comforter I gave her,leaving it in a heap at the foot of her makeshift bed.
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It seemed every cab in the city had passed her by. In fact, some had probably circled around just to really piss her off, she thought to herself. The relentless rain poured down. The water-logged copy of the evening news was a miserable substitute for her umbrella. That had been turned inside out by a gust of wind, like a pair of laundered socks, and she had dumped it ungraciously in the nearest trash can. Her raincoat was virtually worthless. “Damn that dry cleaner! He promised it wouldn’t hurt the waterproofing. God damn it!” Her silk blouse adhered to her skin like a child’s soak-and-peel tattoo. The wind skittered around the bottom of her coat, tickling her calves and drawing any body heat off through her sodden stockings. In that moment, she couldn’t remember ever being any more uncomfortable.
My most recent SO and I had been playing racquetball together for several months. One day when we went to play, it was obvious that we were both feeling a little “frisky”. When we got to the court and I bent over to touch my toes (stretching the backs of my legs) she placed a hand on my tush (I’ve always thought that was nicer than saying “ass”) and slid it down to my balls.
“Did you remember to bring some fresh balls for us to play with today?” she asked.
“Yes, but they’re not *THERE*” I replied, as I stood up and kissed her.
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He’s a very naked person. Nudity is his natural state.Even when he has clothes on, there is always something undressed about him. He was most certainly undressed in the car that afternoon. In our own encapsulated world, the interior of a small Japanese car doing sixty along the Florida Turnpike, he sat in the passenger’s seat with the clothes he’d squirmed out of on the floor around his feet. I was shocked and amused, and having slight difficulty concentrating on my driving. My left hand held the steering wheel firmly set to its course and my right hand was playing with the stick-shift. His, that is.
“This is crazy” I said, firmly gripping the base of his penis and tugging on it. “What if we get pulled over?”
“Don’t speed or anything and we won’t” he said.”Oh!” he exclaimed, doing a comic double-take. “Hi, officer!”
“Silly” I chided. My hand slid up his shaft and I curled my fingers around the head. I felt a little drop of wetness against my palm. “Hmmm!” I said. I squeezed, trying to make that happen again. I looked in the rearview mirror and saw a car approaching in the next lane. “Darling…” I said uneasily.
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