Partner swaps Stories

Clad in a dress that was equal parts filigreed plate mail and diaphanous billows of silk, Astrid Qvistsjö knelt on the carpeted floor of her first-class compartment and bobbed her head to the relentless rhythm rising up from below. Clickety-clack. Clickety-clack. Dickety-dick. Suckety-suck. The conductor checked his pocket watch, then leaned down and chuckled, “All aboard!” before taking her head in his hands and pumping...

The warm Autumn sun was beating down on me as I took advantage of the perfect day to do some yard work. I had worked up a sweat as I raked the leaves and separated some of my perennials in my flower bed. The perspiration was running down between my breasts, despite wearing only a tank top and shorts. A familiar car slowed at our driveway and pulled in. It was Jeff and Kim. I hadn’t seen them since the the night they invit...