Erotic Stories Central

      I guess something made me really look at her, that morning. Cynthia, my new sister-in-law, my husband Greg’s sister. She was staying with us, visiting, for the first time since Greg and I were married, and Greg was off at work and Cynthia had just come down for breakfast. I looked at her, and realized I hadn’t really payed much attention, but that she reminded me of Greg in a lot of ways. They had the same eyes, and though her hair was lighter, their faces were similar, and even their build: both were about 5′8″ and rather slender. And they had some of the same personality quirks, and there was something the similar about the way they spoke.
      Well, Cynthia had come down for breakfast, and I surprised myself! I felt an attraction! I had never felt an attraction like that for a woman! And I certainly wasn’t unsatisfied with sex with Greg–to the contrary, it was great and seemed to be getting better all the time–we were doing it more than ever, sometimes getting together twice in one day! We both loved it, and sometimes, I’d even ask him for it!

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     She was waiting with a radiant smile and a hopeful heart, and he greeted her with a sensual kiss as she slid across the seat next to him. The older model sedan, with its finely tuned engine purred through the gentle curves of the coastal highway, transporting them from the lunacy of the city into a world of peace. Rick was a gentle man, bound by traditions and self-imposed disciplines; he would not settle for failure, nor tolerate resignation. Focused yet reasonable, he was swiftly promoted to a management position, and quickly won the support of his peers and subordinates alike with his impartial leadership. Rhonda, on the other hand, was a struggling artist; brilliant yet indecisive. She had completed her studies at one of the finest institutes, and could create acrylics of show quality. But she was unable to effectively control her impulsiveness and was often unable to complete even the simplest artistic designs. She deeply respected her companion, and the quiet decisive manner in which he acted. On the other hand, he deeply treasured the impulsive nature of her personality, gifted with the ability to transform his seriousness into laughter. They were a study in contrasts, bound by devotion and dependence, growing ever closer to a lifetime commitment.

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      The sky didn’t look good for golf as I drove my Cadillac under thecover of the clubhouse extension. Tommy sauntered out to pull my heavybag from the trunk. I tipped the young man very well so we both cameaway happy. He really wouldn’t like my bag today because of the addedweight of the rain gear, but then again he wouldn’t want to schlepp mypurse either.
      I left the keys in the ignition and slid outside.
      ”True golfer’s weather, Dr. Cantwell,” Tommy quipped.

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         James Kirk was dead.
       No matter how many times the fifty-four year oldCommander had repeated that simple phrase in her mind, shestill found it almost impossible to accept. How often over thelast three decades had she’d heard them uttered, only to havethem disproved as the Captain managed to change the oddsonce again. If the latest proclamation had come from anyoneother than Pavel, she would still be waiting for Jim Kirk to showup and prove everyone wrong.
       But this time there would be no miracle escape. Thistime, the former Communications Officer of the USSEnterprise would have to accept the hours old communication asfact. Only legends lived forever, not the men who made them.