You Write Erotic Stories? Pt. 01

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My normal morning coffee in the coffee shop was usually quiet, and uninterrupted, largely because I went out so early, before most of the shops were open. I would sit with my flat white in the window seat, and watch the local high street waking up.

This particular morning I noticed one of my neighbours, Maggie Timpson, walking along on the opposite side of the street.

For a retired guy of sixty seven, Maggie Timpson cut a striking figure. She was in her fifties, longish dark hair, with what you would call an hour-glass figure, ample breasts, and a gorgeous bum. I’d often admired her from afar, but also knew her to chat to, on occasions. That was when I happened to see her with her husband Pete.

As she walked, I saw her look at her phone, and then change direction, in order to cross over the road, and come into the coffee shop. As she stood in the queue, she glanced around, saw me, and waved. When she had been served, she walked over and joined me.

“Hello Chris, how are you? You’re in here early?” Maggie didn’t know my usual routine.

“I’m here most mornings in the week at this time, it gives me some space, and time to think. But how about you? Why are you up and about so early?”

Maggie sipped her latte and told me, “I decided to do some voluntary work, a couple of mornings a week, in one of the charity shops. I’m a bit early, so I popped in for a coffee.”

“Well it’s good to see you, we’re neighbours, but we tend not to know each other really, do we? typical British reserve.”

She saw me smile, “I know exactly what you mean, so why do you need time to think, and space, or is it a man thing?” She added, “Sorry I’m being nosey.”

“No, not at all. I guess it is a man thing. Since retiring, I often feel a bit ‘trapped,’ marriage gets a bit claustrophobic after forty years.”

I quickly said, “For god’s sake don’t tell my wife that!”

Maggie chuckled, “I’m not going to incriminate myself by agreeing, but I know what you mean. My goodness, we are being very open for a Monday morning. So tell me, this thinking time, what’s in the thoughts?”

“A lot of photography, that’s my passion, or main hobby, although I play snooker as well. But if we’re being frank, I’ve also started to write stories, short stories. I’m not very good yet, but it is quite cathartic.”

“I’d love to read some if you want a guinea pig,”

“Oh I’m embarrassed now, some of them are a bit risqué, a bit fruity, I’m afraid.” I was now looking down into my coffee.

“Oooooh you mean erotic stories, fifty shades and all that? Please don’t feel embarrassed. I sometimes wish Pete would add some spice to our marriage. Tell you what, send me one by email, Pete won’t see it, we have separate email accounts, and I’ll tell you what I think, I won’t be too harsh.” She laughed out loud.

“Really? Oh my goodness. It sounds a bit clandestine, but I’d love an honest opinion.”

Maggie got a pen, and a small till receipt out of her handbag, and wrote her email address on it.

“Here take this. Look I’ve got to go now, or I will be late. Send me one, I won’t be too hard on you.” And with that she was gone.

I watched her cross the road, her ass prompting me to include it in a future story. I was thinking that this chance meeting had got my blood pulsing, which hadn’t happened in a long time.

Finishing my coffee, then buying a newspaper, I made my way home. I was deciding in my mind, which of my stories I would email to Maggie.

I hadn’t decided by the time I got home, so I re-read a few potential ones. I sent a ‘test’ email, just in case it went to the wrong person. It didn’t ping back, but I didn’t get a reply either.

I was on my iPad that evening when the reply came back. “Correct address. Can’t wait to read your story. Maggie x “

So I had to make a decision.

I would send one about a middle aged, married woman on holiday, who had a fling with a fellow holiday guest in her hotel in Italy. It wasn’t the raunchiest story I’d written, but it included several sexual scenes, with lurid descriptions of oral sex, orgasms, and outdoor liaisons.

I pressed ‘Send’ and took a deep breath. I just didn’t want to offend, or, indeed, be thought of as an old pervert.

I didn’t hear anything for the rest of the evening, so I began to be concerned. I went to bed that night thinking I’d overstepped the mark.

I needn’t have worried. When I got up, and went downstairs to swallow my pills, and walk to the coffee shop, I opened up my iPad, and there was the email from Maggie.

Quickly I opened it, and smiled.

“I loved it Chris, very exciting. I’d love one more, if you don’t mind? Maggie x”

I replied briefly. “Send you one later. So glad you enjoyed. Chris x”

I walked to the coffee shop with a spring in my step. I contemplated all of my stories, deciding which one to send next? It would be good to take it up a notch. Perhaps a story which was even hotter.

I sent it later that morning. It was a story about a threesome, which involved two men, and the wife of one of their porno workmates. Lots of sex, some use of toys, and a very messy ending. Again, I was nervous about the way it might be received. And again no response, not even on the Wednesday morning.

I walked to the coffee shop a little downhearted, glancing at my phone, every now and again, to see if there was an email.

Staring into my flat white, Maggie suddenly appeared beside me. Of course, I remembered, she was working at the charity shop two mornings a week, and this was her second morning.

“Hello Chris, sorry I didn’t email back, I had some family stuff going on.”

Maggie sat down opposite me, leaning forward, and lowering her voice, she whispered, “I thought the second one was great, very good. But I hope you don’t mind, I sent the first one to a friend, Wendy.”

And speaking even more quietly, “She found it very arousing, she read it, and had to use her ‘you know what.”

I looked puzzled. “Her vibrator!” She hissed, giggling slightly.

I was beaming a broad smile, “Oh my god, how exciting, that’s naughty.”

“She wants to read the second one, do you mind if I pass it on?

“I don’t mind at all, Maggie, it’s exciting for me to know I’m arousing a lady. Oh sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

Maggie smiled. “You seem to have that ability In your writing Chris. How many stories have you actually written?”

“About twenty that I’m relatively happy with. I’ll send you another if you really would like one.”

“I’d love it Chris, and you really don’t mind Wendy reading them? We go back a long way.”

“Not at all, its a motivation for me, as well as exciting. So you’ve been friends for a long time?”

“Yes we have. Briefly, because I’ve got to go; she’s twice divorced, I knew her from working with her in my twenties. She lives in Kibworth. I’ll email you when I’ve read your next one.”

Again I watched Maggie’s ass depart the coffee shop, and was happier than in a long time.

I decided to send a story with some, you might say, kinkier parts to it. One concerning again, a woman, in her fifties, who finds herself involved with quite a dominant man, and who pushed her into some ‘group’ activity.

Again I was a little unsure as to how it would be received.

I had no reply from Maggie that day, presumably she was busy after her morning in the shop. However, there was a surprise.

I received an email from an unfamiliar address. It was from Wendy. Maggie had forwarded the second story to her, and it included my email address.

“Hope you don’t mind me emailing you Chris. Got your address from above. I’ve really enjoyed your two stories, particularly the threesome one, very exciting. Looking forward to the next one. Wendy x “

I sent a reply which simply said, “Thank you Wendy, you’re very kind. We all have different tastes. I’m still learning about women even at my age. Chris x “

A last reply came back, “Hope we may meet up sometime, maybe a coffee with Maggie x”

I spent the rest of the day taking stock, my general demeanour had taken a huge lift, and I wondered where this whole thing might lead.

Next day I got the reply from Maggie that I was hoping for. It was confirmation that the third story, with its kinkier inclinations, had fired her imagination.

“I think you are quite a naughty man Chris,” it said, and went on, “these stories are leading me astray. And I’ve heard from Wendy, who tells me she has emailed you. Watch out, she’s a ‘maneater!’ I’ve just sent her the third story. Goodness knows what she’ll think. Her batteries will need re-charging! I’ll await the next instalment. Have a good weekend.”

It remained all quiet, until Sunday evening. I hadn’t sent another story, being undecided how far to go with the kinky stuff. I was sitting in the lounge with my iPad, half watching some utterly boring stuff on tv, when an email came through from Wendy.

“You really do have such an imagination Chris! I’ve read that story several times last night, and today, and it gets me every time. Where do you get these ideas? I’m sure it doesn’t come from real life experiences???? Does it???

That was it, no signing off, but I’d obviously hit the mark.

I couldn’t smile in case my wife asked why, but I chuckled inwardly.

After considerable thought I sent the next story, to both Maggie, and Wendy. It really was a gamble. It was about a divorced woman in her fifties, who goes to a party, and has sex with four guys, a sort of gang bang. I wasn’t expecting a quick reply, and when I set off on the Monday morning for my walk to the coffee shop, I had not heard anything.

As I sat with my flat white, I was hoping that Maggie would drop by, and my hopes were fulfilled when through the door she came. I smiled, and got up to ask her what drink she would like.

“Hello Chris, yes thank you, I’d love a cappuccino, but Wendy is with me this morning, she’s just popped over the road to post a birthday card, she’ll have a cappuccino too, please.”

Maggie went and sat down, and as anime porno I stood in the queue, I saw Wendy join her at the table, giving me a little wave, and a smile.

I could see that Wendy was all that I suspected she might be.

Tall, slim, long auburn hair, dressed in a cotton dress, and quite high heels. When I got close, her eyes were a deep green, and her lips full, and plump.

Maggie said with a broad smile, “Well Chris, this is your other fan.”

I was slightly embarrassed, unsure of what to say, but Wendy said straight away, “I really had to meet the man behind those words, Chris. Sorry to surprise you, but Maggie had told me she sometimes saw you here on a Monday morning.”

“I’m flattered of course, but it’s all meant to be a bit of fun. No one gets hurt with a few stories, a few fantasies. I write to get a few things off my chest, and I guess it’s a bit cathartic.”

Wendy was looking at me intently as I spoke. Maggie took up the conversation.

“As I told you Wendy, Chris has been a neighbour for years, but we haven’t spoken a lot. I found out about his writing accidentally.”

I felt Wendy’s eyes still on me, as she sipped her cappuccino, and as I glanced at her, I held her gaze for just a few seconds, and got that buzz that I’d long forgotten. That feeling that causes a slight racing of the heart. I looked away, and then looked back, and she smiled.

Maggie continued chatting, but I’m sure she caught that moment. I remembered her telling me about Wendy being a ‘man-eater,’ and again I felt that tinge of excitement.

Suddenly Maggie looked at her phone, and realised that she would be late for work.

“Bloody hell, I must go. I’ll leave you in Wendy’s safe hands,” then turning briefly to Wendy, “treat him gently, I know you.” And laughing she was gone.

Reddening slightly, I asked if Wendy wanted another coffee, because I was going to get myself one.

“Yes, why not, I’ve got to go to the bank, and do some shopping, but I want to know more about you, and your story writing.

Fortunately the queue wasn’t long, and on my return Wendy was true to her word.

“So Chris, where do all these ideas come from, for your stories, I mean?”

I was quite open with her. I told her that I had never been an angel, and there were various elements of real life experience, along with a fruitful imagination.

“I must say that I guess that’s what grabbed me, the fact that the storylines were actually feasible, or believable. They certainly hit the spot.”

Slightly flustered by that, I wasn’t sure what to say.

Putting her hand on mine, Wendy said warmly, “Oh Chris I’m putting you through it, just keep writing, and I’ll keep reading. You’re an intriguing man, and I guess being single it’s rare to meet someone that’s on the same wavelength. Unfortunately, you’re married as all the best ones are.”

I took her hand, and replied, “Wendy, I could say a whole lot more to answer that, but it might not be appropriate,” and then with her eyes hooking me again, I added, “men get tempted all the time.”

There was a pause, and Wendy quietly said, “Hmmmmmm, I know Chris.”

I sensed the bitter pill of experience.

She took her hand away slowly, and still looking at me softly said, “I hope we can meet again, but keep emailing your stories. I’m sure there might be ideas I can suggest for some new storylines. I’m not sure Maggie would approve, bearing in mind I’m well aware all this has got to be discreet. I’ve not been married twice without knowing how discretion works.”

” I guess so Wendy, thank you, and I will send you some more. Maybe if you’re around for another coffee sometime?”

As Wendy stood up to go, she kissed me on the cheek, and as she departed she said, “Hope it’s not too long Chris.”

I sent both Maggie, and Wendy another story that afternoon, but had no communication back from either of them that day.

Maggie came into the coffee shop on the Wednesday morning a little earlier than usual, which gave us time to chat.

“You seem to have made a distinct impression on Wendy,” she said sarcastically. “I hope you don’t fall into her clutches, remember I told you that she eats men. I spoke to her on the phone last night and she didn’t stop talking about you.”

“Oh dear, ” I replied. “She is quite a woman, but do you think I’d better back off?”

“Up to you,” said Maggie, with some disdain, “don’t say you weren’t warned. But you’re safe with me, I won’t tell Sara.”

“Thank you, I mean that’s not going to be a problem,” and I added quickly, “nothing’s going to happen.”

Maggie snorted, “Famous last words, I know men…and so does Wendy!”

I went quiet.

“But that story you sent yesterday was a bit saucy, you are definitely getting worse.” Maggie was smiling. “I have to make sure I read them when I’m alone now.”

“It’s good to know I’m having a good effect, putting a smile on two women’s faces, that’s a result.”

“Wendy seems to think she can give you a storyline, or two. I’m not arap porno surprised with what she’s told me about her history. I’m sure she will email you.”

“We’ll see,” I chuckled.

Maggie had to go, and standing up, she gave me another peck on the cheek, and left me to ponder what she’d said about Wendy.

That evening I got an email from Wendy. I must admit my heart did take a leap when I opened my inbox. It thanked me for the last story, and it said that it was, ‘highly arousing,’ so I was quite thrilled about that. It added that she had one or two ideas for storylines that she would pass on in the future.

Ending with a “see you soon” I set about trying to be creative, and starting to write another story.

Thursday morning was wet. With an umbrella, I walked as usual to get my coffee.

There were a few less people around because of the weather, but I was totally taken aback, when out of the pouring rain, and into the dry of the coffee shop, walked Wendy.

“Hello, what are you doing here,” I said, helping her out of her parka. “It’s awful out there.”

“I began to wonder if you’d be here today, what with this rotten morning.”

“You came to see me? Surely not.”

Wendy looked slightly doubtful. “Yes I did actually. Am I being too much of a stalker?”

“Look, I’m flattered, and I’m glad to see you again.”

“Awww Chris,” she said, leaning forward to kiss me on the cheek. And then looking at me for a split second, she kissed me briefly on the lips.

I didn’t say anything immediately, but then, flustered, asked her if she wanted a cappuccino, and then went to get it, while she sat down, and shook her damp red hair.

Again my heart was beating faster, but I knew I shouldn’t be an old fool.

“Now tell me the real reason you’re here, bills to pay, things to buy?”

“I will actually get a few things while I’m here, yes, but I came to ask you something. You can say ‘no’ straight away, if you like, or think about an answer. And I know I really shouldn’t be doing this.”

“I’m intrigued Wendy, please, you can say anything to me, especially as you have read some of my darkest fantasies.” I said, laughing softly.

“Well, here goes…I know you’re married, I understand that, but Maggie told me some of the circumstances. Anyway, would you like to come to me one day for coffee?”

I must have blushed bright red.

“I’m sorry, I know I’ve gone too far.” Wendy looked downcast.

I grabbed her hand, and held it tight.

“Don’t be silly, I’d love to visit you Wendy, perhaps I shouldn’t, but I cant help what I’ve felt with you. You’ve become my temptation I’m afraid.”

We must have looked an odd couple. Holding hands, whispering over our coffee, at 8.30am in the morning.

“You decide when you can visit, just don’t get into trouble.”

I took a moment to think. “My best day is a Wednesday, could we make it next week, around 11am? It will be our little secret.”

“Oh yes Chris please, and if you change your mind I’ll understand. Just email me.”

Wendy went back out into the rain, leaving me excited, but wondering. I had so much thinking to do.

Thursday and Friday passed quickly, family stuff took over, and it wasn’t until Sunday that I was able to send another story to Maggie and Wendy. This time it was a quirky story about phone sex, not my usual style, but I was interested to receive an opinion.

On Monday in the coffee shop I saw Maggie briefly, she was running late, but she still managed to say ‘hello,’ and she said that Wendy sent a wink, whatever that meant. However, I did receive an email from Wendy which asked, “Are we still on for Wednesday?” to which I replied, “Yes, will be with you around 11am.”

Finally Wednesday arrived. Guiltily I left home as I usually did every week, and trying to compose my excitement, I drove to Wendy’s.

She greeted me quite formally at the front door with a brief peck on the cheek, and invited me into lounge where I sat on the sofa looking out onto the carefully manicured garden.

“Would you like tea or coffee, or perhaps something stronger?” asked Wendy.

“Tea will be fine,” I replied.

We made small talk, and rather than talk between rooms I got up and went into the kitchen to join her.

Standing with my back to the breakfast bar I watched as Wendy poured the tea. She was dressed in a white blouse, which was slightly see-through, and it showed a lacy bra beneath. Her skirt was tailored, and close fitting, and her shoes had quite high heels.

As she looked up she saw me admiring her. I must have blushed slightly, and looked away.

“Do you like what you see, Chris? My words wouldn’t come out, but finally I stuttered, “you have a very attractive body Wendy.”

“Would you like to see more of it?

Wendy had a mischievous smile, and was trying to make me blush more. Provocatively she unfastened the top button of her blouse. By now I was unable to speak.

“Let’s forget the tea Chris, come with me,” and taking me by the hand led me upstairs.

Wendy’s bedoom was typically feminine, lots of soft cushions, pastel colours, a large bed, fitted wardrobes with mirrors, and a comfortable armchair in one corner. The bay window allowed in the summer sun, and the room was perfumed exquisitely.

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