Empty house Stories

“You know,” said Bertie to no one in particular, “ever since we’ve decided to be openly kinky, I’ve had to do a lot more driving.” Rachel snored in the seat beside him. He’d clocked her nodding off since before they’d left Toronto. The app had told them to expect a three-hour drive, but he’d run that estimate almost a week ago. He hadn’t calibrated it for a Friday preceding a long weekend, nor had he expected the snowfall...

The chill in the morning air left Anna's cheeks rosy pink and her nose chapped, a feeling she had oddly come to love as she strolled the quiet neighborhood streets of her small cul-de-sac lined with maple trees beginning to lose their leaves. The house felt strangely empty, even if the cul-de-sac was anything but, and she had to remind herself that it was only temporary. Three months offshore was enough to make it feel li...

The rooms are bare now and echo. I am moving. I've lived here since childhood, as a daughter, wife, and widow. I had my first orgasm here and my biggest best orgasm there, after the 1998 world cup final. If you look closely at one wall in the living room, there's a dim handprint. It's mine. I was bracing myself against the wall as my then-boyfriend fucked me hard from behind. I've watched eight men undress here and used h...

When I was 17 years old I fell in love for the first time. Her name was Saoirse, which is the Irish word for "freedom". She was a tall, well-spoken and elegant girl who was 2 months my younger. She had the most striking blue eyes I had ever seen; pale and wispy, but at the same time sharp and piercing. Her smile was always so wide and she wasn't stingy about showing it. We never got too far, at most managing a peck on the...