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Steamy-Stories

Steamy-Stories

By: Steamy Stories
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Explicit short stories of intimacy and passion.2003-2022 Biographies & Memoirs Hygiene & Healthy Living Social Sciences
Episodes
  • Bridge Engineering: Part 2
    Dec 10 2025
    Bridge Engineering: Part 2 Why is my mom here? Based on a post by Architect 23 94, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connected. I awoke to the sound of Lizzie's bathroom door opening and closing, and the girls' footsteps moving around her bedroom. I laid there for a minute then reluctantly pulled myself out of bed to splash some water on my face and slip on a pair of flannel lounge pants and a t-shirt. I emerged from my bedroom and looked down in the great room to see the girls standing by the sofa looking at Stefani as she slept. Toni heard me coming down the stairs and asked, "Why is my mom here?" Lizzie followed that with the accurate but impolite assessment, "Her makeup is all smeared." Before I could say anything, Toni shook her mom's shoulder and loudly inquired, "Mom! Mom! Are you ok?!" Stefani stirred, stretched her legs under the blankets, and drowsily answered, "Yes honey, I'm fine. Mom just had a really rough night." Seemingly satisfied with that answer, Toni and Lizzie went into the pantry and started lining up cereal boxes while debating the merits of each selection. By that time, I was also downstairs and gently offered, "Good morning" to Stefani as I went about rekindling the hearth. She moaned as she sat up on the sofa and said, "I'm so embarrassed. I can't believe I came here like that last night." "I'm glad you did. I don't know what that was all about, but I was happy to know you were here and safe." She gave a muffled "Thank you." while she hung her head and cradled it in her hands, then mumbled to herself, "I can't believe I thought he would be any different." Toni must have had one ear tuned into our conversation and interjected in an annoyed tone of voice, "Is this about a man?" Lizzie looked at Toni, then at me and matter-of-factly said, "She should go sit on the bridge." It was an unquestionable truth in Lizzie's mind that time sitting on the bridge would fix whatever was bothering Toni's mom. I smiled and said, "Lizzie, I think that is a great idea." She puffed her chest proudly and went about pouring a bowl of cereal. I finished adding logs to the fire and suggested to Stefani, "There's a half-bath by the kitchen, or you're welcome to use my bathroom upstairs if you would like a shower. I'll pull together some fresh clothes for you. When you are ready, I think we should go for a walk;” then in a slightly louder voice added, "away from little eavesdroppers." "You really wouldn't mind if I took a shower?" "Not at all. I'll get you some towels and toiletries." The corners of her mouth turned upward in a small smile of gratitude and, for the first time that morning, Stefani looked me directly in the eyes and offered a very heart-felt, "Thank you." She stood up, pulled the hem of her dress down, and followed me up the stairs in her black legging covered feet. At the top of the stairs, I reached in the linen closet and handed her a stack of two bath towels, a hand towel, and a washcloth. My hands then sorted through some of the miscellaneous toiletries stored in the same closet and added a toothbrush, toothpaste, and stick of pre-teen girly deodorant. I apologized as I set the brightly patterned container on top of the towels, "Sorry, you're stuck with this unless you want to use men's deodorant." Returning to our inventory of toiletries, I started checking labels on bottles of Lizzie's 2-in-1 bodywash and shampoo, "Ok, looks like your choices are strawberry, cotton candy, or bubble gum." She chuckled and said, "I think I'll go with strawberry." "Good call." We proceeded into my bedroom where I motioned her toward the ensuite bathroom and said, "Make yourself at home and use whatever you need in there. I'm pretty sure the door locks. To be honest, I've never used it." She surveyed the bedroom and its contents on her way to the bathroom and I walked the opposite direction toward my walk-in closet. "I'll find some clothes while you are in the shower and set them on the corner of the bed." She softly said, "Thank you." while walking into the bathroom and shutting the door behind her. I proceeded to rummage through my closet looking for things that might work. I knew my clothes made for a 6'-3" tall man wouldn't fit her properly, but they were the only option available. My hands methodically moved across the wall rack, sliding each hanger a bit so I could examine the respective article. After a few minutes, I heard the sounds of Stefani turning on the shower, opening the glass shower door, and then water sporadically splashing against the tile and glass enclosure. My mind came to the awareness that there was a completely naked woman in my shower, just on the other side of the door. I couldn't help but think of how her intimate features must look as the steaming spray trickled down her body. Realizing I was standing there inappropriately fantasizing about a woman in a questionable emotional condition, I snapped myself out of it and continued thumbing through hangers to arrive at a...
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  • Bridge Engineering: Part 1
    Dec 9 2025
    Bridge Engineering: Part 1Two broken, single parents find healing.Based on a post by Architect 23 94, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connected.And so it began. The start of another school year. I pulled my Jeep into the school grounds and took my place in the waiting drop-off lane. Children scurried about the school grounds with crisp back-to-school clothes and brightly colored backpacks not yet soiled and tattered from use. I winced internally as numerous mothers hugged their little ones, sent them into the building, and tearfully departed.My Elizabeth unfastened her seatbelt and eagerly fidgeted on the edge of the seat as we crept forward in line. Upon arrival at the designated unloading zone, Lizzie contorted herself over the center console and gave me a tight, all-consuming hug. "I love you Daddy!" she shouted as a volunteer parent opened the car door. And with that, she was gone in a flash. The volunteer and I just smiled at each other and shrugged our shoulders.In a repeat of years past, I drove away with a feeling of emptiness. Lizzie and I spent every minute of the summer together and I grew accustomed to her as my constant companion. It seemed like just yesterday that I dropped her off for the first day of preschool. Today it's third grade. How fast will the remaining years fly by before she leaves me all alone?I spent the day in a nearby coffee shop distractedly conducting business via email on my laptop. It wasn't rational, but somehow it felt better knowing I was only a couple minutes from the school, and from Lizzie. Time passed excruciatingly slow and I struggled to resist going to the school and being one of 'those' helicopter parents. Well, school ends at 2:50. I held out until 2:15.I was third in the line of vehicles waiting for pick-up and my eyes anxiously scanned the mass of children emerging from the school doors. It wasn't long before I spotted Lizzie joyfully skipping hand-in-hand with a girl I didn't recognize. She was rail thin, had a very lightly tanned skin tone, and towered above Lizzie. That wasn't too surprising since Lizzie took after her very petite mother and also barely made the birthday cutoff for her grade, but this girl was quite a bit taller than the average third grader.The girls zig-zagged as they skipped down the sidewalk with swinging arms and bouncing hair. Lizzie's straight and amber brown, her friend's a loose mass of dark curls. Lizzie spotted my Jeep and pointed it out to her friend. They hugged goodbye with Lizzie's arms around her friend's waist, and her friend's arms around Lizzie's head. I smiled at the height contrast and felt a sense of relief as Lizzie ran toward the Jeep.She climbed in and frantically began telling me everything about her day, a flood of words pouring from her mouth as if a damn holding them back had burst, "My teacher is Mrs. Pierpont and she is really nice and she has red hair. A boy named Alex sits next to me and he has shiny shoes. I had a hot dog for lunch and; and; and;”My heart felt comfort as she sat next to me and I heard the happiness in her voice. I needed her near me and to know that everything was ok.Lizzie had talked non-stop for 10 minutes and was still going as we headed toward home. The small-town streets gave way to a rural two-lane road as we headed out of town, and eventually the tires crunched along the gravel road leading to our house in the woods. It was the tranquil setting that I needed when Lizzie and I moved here 8 years ago."; and I met a new friend. Her name is Toni, well it's really Antonia, but she wants to be called Toni. Kind of like my name is Elizabeth, but you call me Lizzie. She is really nice and really tall. She has a pet frog."I interrupted to ask, "Is that who you were skipping with after school?""Yes, she in my class but she doesn't sit next to me. I met her when we were in line for lunch and we sat together. She brought a salad from home and bought a milk in the lunch line. She just moved here from somewhere else. Can I bring lunch from home tomorrow?"I patted her knee with my hand and said, "Of course, you can sweetie." as we parked in front of the house.It wasn't a large house but was plenty of space for the two of us. There was a great room, kitchen and half bathroom on the main level; two bedroom-bathroom suites and a loft space on the second level; and a semi-finished basement that I had been slowly working on for several years. It had all the modern technology and conveniences but was built with a rustic charm complementing its setting in the woods.We kicked our shoes off in the mudroom and Lizzie discarded her backpack into the coat cubby by the door. Lizzie, or more accurately, I, survived the first day of the school year. Only 179 more to go.Getting In A Rhythm.Lizzie and I settled into the school year rhythm over the next couple weeks and I began to slowly let go of my separation anxiety. Every day, I dropped her off at school, worked from home, then picked her up ...
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  • JoAnne’s Christmas Curse: Part 2
    Dec 8 2025
    JoAnne’s Christmas Curse: Part 2 A Bike Messenger Received. Based on a post by Todd 1 72, in 2 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. In the morning, JoAnne only found one skirt and jacket; with a remarkable short skirt. And the only shoes had six inch spike heels. Fortunately the long wool overcoat was back, so at least she could probably make it to the office without being ravished, although as horny as she was waking up, any ravishing was more likely to be her doing anyway. JoAnne shrugged off her coat as she walked past Lillian's desk, the super-short skirt eliciting an appreciative "ooh" from Lillian. Then, Lillian said, "Um, shit. JoAnne, the secretary offsite training is today, so I have to leave in like five minutes; we're supposed to head out to some lame team building exercise thing." JoAnne flinched. Lillian, cute as ever, stood up and stepped into the inner office with her. Lillian continued. "I, um, was really hoping to finish all that, um, dictation we started yesterday, but I just got a call saying there are no excused absences. Human Resources is adamant." JoAnne forced a smile on her face. "Not your fault. I was really hoping we could; um, go over that last part again today. Maybe you could read it back to me tomorrow though." She felt Lillian's warm hand slide up the back of her skirt and gently grab her bare ass, a fingertip just pressed against her asshole. Lillian smiled sweetly as if butter wouldn't melt in her mouth. "I hate to wait that long, but I'll go over my notes so I can read it back exactly right." JoAnne shivered, glanced out the door to make sure nobody was in the outer office, then whispered into Lillian's ear, "God, I was so looking forward to dragging you in here this morning. You'd better run while you still have some clothes on!" Lillian gave her a chaste peck on the cheek, then slipped out the door. Shit. Alone. Horny as hell. JoAnne settled in to get some work done. The morning dragged by, Joanne having to find every file, and never quite sure where to look. She was surprised at how much she actually had undervalued her secretaries; the Byzantine filing system used by the company for hard copy files, was certainly not designed for amateurs. By late afternoon, she found herself frustrated; sorting through file cabinets, looking for a 10-year old file. She was looking in the second lowest cabinet when she heard someone behind her, clearing his throat. JoAnne whirled. The same bike messenger as usual, stood with a package; and gilt edged green envelope in hand. From where he had been standing, he must have had a clear view of her full ass, as she bent over the files. With the super-short skirt and no panties, it didn't take a genius to figure out what he'd seen. She glanced down at his thin spandex cycling shorts surreptitiously. Yep. Hard-on. Giant hard-on. She could see each vein in the trellis texture wrapping around the wide girth of his cock. "How long have you been standing there." "About 90 seconds, I just came; in. I mean came in." "I'll bet." She snatched the big bubble-wrap envelope from his hand. Ripped it open and read the gilt and ivory card. All it said was, "He's all yours." She felt the now-familiar tingling, surge through her. The package had a very nice Christmas bath towel with ivory and gold trim. She stared at the muscular bike messenger, stepped around him; then closed, and locked the office door. "Three questions. No bullshit." He raised an eyebrow, "Yes?" "You married?" "No." "Steady girlfriend?" "No." "Straight?" "Yes." "Fine. I can see you're horny." She gestured at his monstrous hard-on. "You've eyed me every time you've come in here; and if I don't get laid in the next few minutes, I'll go insane." Her skirt and blouse hit the floor, and before he could even respond, she was on her knees and pulling the spandex shorts to his ankles. Her mouth was on his massive cock before he could even finish stepping out of his shoes and pull his shirt off. The taste was amazing, she felt like she couldn't get away; every lick made her crave him even more. She could barely get her hand around the shaft, so she began stroking his massive pole with both hands; spreading as much of her saliva on his cock as she could manage, then she began pumping his cock in and out of her mouth, getting a little deeper with each stroke. She felt his hands grip her hair, and he slowly began to take over the rhythm, and driving in a little deeper each time. She felt a flash of anger as she realized he was just fucking her mouth, just using her! The feeling of anger flashed into heat that seemed to center on her pussy. She groaned around the thrusting pole. His cock went in deeper and she sucked harder, slurping as he pulled back. Fuck, it felt great, just to act like a total slut! She moved her hands back around, to grab his muscular ass, and began pulling him in harder. She should have been gagging and choking on his cock; it was going halfway down her damn...
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