collection of stories you shouldn't read at work
I received this prompt, “Write a poem. The first line is, ‘Her face is flushed…'”
>Her face is flushed…
>
>Dew erupts from every pore
>
>Her senses are tingling
>
>She is craving more.
>Suffering anticipation
>
>How long must she wait
>
>Moments from release, not
>
>From his patient torture
>Again, he dips his finger in
>
>Again, he licks the sweet nectar
>
>Again, she thrusts her hips
>
>Again almost, yet again denied.
It was warmer than usual that day at the seaside. A warm front was coming in and the wind from the southwest was kicking up higher than usual waves. This early in the season, there were few souls at the beach. We walked along alone.
She had caught my eye in the hotel lobby and apparently I caught hers. She nodded toward the patio café and I followed her there. After cappuccinos, she said, “Thanks for the coffee. How would you like to take a walk to get better acquainted? I know a secluded place down the beach where we can be alone and talk. Do you want to see?” Her glistening milk chocolate eyes were bright with anticipation. She rose from her chair and began pulling at my arm before I could answer, “Come on, it will be nice.”
I pushed my chair back and stood as she teasingly pulled me toward a gap in the hedge that separated the café from the beach. As soon as she was through the gap she kicked up each foot and pulled off her sandals. She dropped them on paving blocks by the hedge. “You’ll want yours off too. The sand fills everything.”
Catch up on the previous chapters [[link](https://www.reddit.com/user/eatu55/comments/lyjzpr/learning_to_live_with_honey_and_anne_an_erotic/)].
—
Anne’s yoga instructor is so tall—easily 5 feet 11 inches—she intimidates men. She’s not too easy on the ladies in her classes, either.
Anne and Rhonda took their usual table at the juice bar after yoga. Rhonda was sipping juiced celery and avocado. Anne had carrot and mango. After a few minutes of gripes about difficult poses, Rhonda touched Anne’s hand, leaned in and whispered, “Do you think her name is really *Nastya* or is it a nickname she earned in the Russian army?”
“Ha ha ha. Funny, Rhonda. I think it is a real name. Diminutive for Anastasia or something. I heard she was a mail-order bride, whose “husband” was into some shady stuff in Chicago. She got free of her mess and moved out here about 3 years ago.“
“That’s rough. Seems like there are a lot of us finding refuge in our little town. By the way, thanks again for the perfect birthday present,” she winked.
The juice bar was busier than usual. When Nastya looked around for a seat, the only ones left were at Anne’s table. “May I join you?” She asked.
The events of this chapter follow immediately from [Chapter 10. Is the Subject Art](https://www.reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/mi7v7l/chapter_10_is_the_subject_art_ocart_classcfnm/).
[Hearing the melody “Spill the Wine” by Eric Burdon & War]
…
As I fell asleep and dreamed.
I dreamed I was in a Hollywood movie,
and that I was the star.
…
I stood high upon a mountaintop,
naked to the world
in front of every kind of girl.
…
I awoke abruptly to the clanking of dishes and talking coming up from the kitchen below. It seemed the song had been playing on a loop in my mind. It’s easy to see what brought this golden oldie to mind— I had just spent the last hour or so on a kind of mountaintop naked before, well, I don’t know for sure who I was naked before except for Miss Winters.
I guess I was having fun in my subconscious state. I was sporting a passable erection as I got off the bed. I hung the robe in the master bathroom and slipped on a warm-up suit: it was blue wind pants and a matching 1/4-zip, pullover windshirt. Looking in the mirror, I smoothed down my hair and headed downstairs.
Click [here](https://www.reddit.com/user/eatu55/comments/lyjzpr/learning_to_live_with_honey_and_anne_an_erotic/) for the series overview and previous chapters.
—
What is it about the smell of sweet things baking? That powerful magnet simultaneously drew both Honey and me to the brightly lit kitchen. Honey down from her room and her studies and me up from the gym where I had just finished my shower after cleaning up from the afternoon’s *exercise*.
Anne was removing a sheet of cookies from the oven as we entered. She looked up, smiled and said, “That’s better than a text message, don’t you think? Dinner is on the table. Let me get this next batch in the oven and I’ll be right there. ”
The table was set with three big bowls of steaming broth and noodles, each flanked by a spoon and chopsticks. In the middle of the table there was a plate with bean sprouts, cilantro, basil, sliced jalapeños and lime wedges. Apparently, Anne had stopped by our favorite *Pho* restaurant on her way home from shopping.
Honey and I took our usual seats and started putting our condiments in our soup while Anne took the cookies off the sheet and put them on a rack to cool. When Anne took her seat she turned toward me and asked, “So how was your workout this afternoon?”
Click [here](https://www.reddit.com/user/eatu55/comments/lyjzpr/learning_to_live_with_honey_and_anne_an_erotic/) for the series overview and previous chapters.
—
I had no more meetings so I knocked off work early, skipping lunch and going straight home. It’s a brisk fall day. The sun is bright and there is a light breeze. It’s a perfect day for a run in the park.
Our house is situated on a small hill that slopes from the street in front down toward the horse property behind us. This allows us to have a walk-out basement, half of which is my gym.
My gym has 16 feet of picture windows overlooking the pond. In the corner, I have our two treadmills facing the glass for those runs Anne and I do in bad weather. Between the treadmills and the French doors is our hot tub. The rest of the space is filled with a pro cable setup (two opposing pillars with cables connected by a bridge with chinning and pull up mounts), two adjustable benches, and a selection of free weights. The other side of the basement has a 6-seat sauna, a shower room and the laundry.
Click [here](https://www.reddit.com/user/eatu55/comments/lyjzpr/learning_to_live_with_honey_and_anne_an_erotic/) for the series overview and previous chapters.
—
Anne kissed me and eased herself off the arm of the office chair. She said, “I’m thinking about dinner. You?”
“Now that you mention it, I’m famished.”
As she walked toward the door of the office, I couldn’t help staring at her in those shiny red stilettos. Her shapely legs were covered with dark, seamed stockings. She was so damn sexy looking in them with her tight, black pencil skirt and starched white blouse. “You take care of your clothes and get dressed while I start the food. See you downstairs with Honey in about 15?”
“Perfect,” I said as I slid on my boxers and shirt. As she left the room I grabbed my briefcase in my left hand and laid my jacket, pants and belt over my left forearm. I grabbed my shoes in my right hand. I left the ropes for Anne or Honey to take care of.
I went into our room and hung my suit in the closet and threw the rest of my clothes in the hamper. I washed my face and brushed my hair then jumped into a set of warm ups that was waiting for my time in our basement gym.
Click [here](https://www.reddit.com/user/eatu55/comments/lyjzpr/learning_to_live_with_honey_and_anne_an_erotic/) for the series overview and previous chapters.
—
*Bee-beep*
Just as I was getting into the car to come home from work I got this text:
**From my Hot Lover** *Please come right up to my office when you get home*.
That seemed ominous.
*Bee-beep*
**From my Hot Lover** *Honey and I need your help with her psych project. See you soon :**
*Bee-beep*
**From my Hot Lover** *P.S. Leave your shoes on and bring your briefcase, thanks Lover*.
I waited a couple seconds to make sure there weren’t any more messages and responded:
**From your Daddy** *Got it. Be home in 15*.
Our house is an old-style colonial with 4 bedrooms upstairs. On one end is the master suite. Honey’s room is on the other end. The middle two rooms serve as our guest room –which has a small desk I sometimes use– and Anne’s office. All four rooms have windows that look out the back of the house onto the pond at the back of the neighboring horse property.
The continuing story from:
* [Chapter 1: School Daze or Who’s in Charge](https://www.reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/lvegaz/school_daze_or_whos_in_charge_part_1_of_a_series/)
* [Chapter 2: Passing Grades](https://www.reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/lvocd9/chapter_2_passing_grades_oc/)
* [Chapter 3: Breakfast of Champions](https://www.reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/lwbpil/chapter_3_breakfast_of_champions_oc_oral_sex/)
* [Chapter 4: Afterglow](https://www.reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/lx1d9r/chapter_4_afterglow_oc_nature_sex_ruined_orgasm/)
We ordered the *Sashimi* family platter to share with a couple of California rolls on the side for good measure. While we waited for our food, the waitress brought us our drinks: a nice Pinot Noir for Anne, a ginger ale for Honey, and a Sapporo for me. There was a college football game on the TV over the bar that held my attention while the girls talked about the new styles of boots and the upcoming winter sale at the department store.
I like our local sushi shop. On one side it has a long bar where you can watch the chefs expertly cut the fish, roll rice, and assemble and arrange each dish. On the other side there is a well-stocked bar with two flat screen TVs and 5 stools for drink patrons. Between them were two round tables with seating for eight in the middle and four square tables for four on each side. Each table has a Lazy Susan for easy sharing and each place is set with an Origami-style folded black cloth napkin. There’s always a slender glass in the middle holding nicely decorated chopsticks.
The continuing story from:
[Chapter 1: School Daze or Who’s in Charge](https://www.reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/lvegaz/school_daze_or_whos_in_charge_part_1_of_a_series/)
[Chapter 2: Passing Grades](https://www.reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/lvocd9/chapter_2_passing_grades_oc/)
[Chapter 3: Breakfast of Champions](https://www.reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/lwbpil/chapter_3_breakfast_of_champions_oc_oral_sex/)
By the time we had finished our showers it was well after noon on a crisp autumn Saturday. Anne grabbed a couple of apples from the kitchen then took my arm, and jumped up and kissed my cheek. “Let’s go for a walk in the park,” she said.
“Absolutely. This is my favorite time of year to be outdoors. Every year, my senses are filled with the feeling of leaves crunching under my feet and that dry-leaf smell. Let me get a couple of jackets then we can go.”
“Honey, your mother and I are going for a walk. We should be home in an hour or so; we have our phones if you need anything,” I said.
“Okay, Daddy. I think I’m gonna take a nap. I’m beat. Have fun. Love you guys,” she replied.
After I locked the front door, I handed Anne her jacket and she handed me an apple. It was sunny and 65, so we tied our jackets around our waists before we started out. Anne put her right arm through my left and squeezed my bicep with her left hand as she leaned in and started to move me down the sidewalk.