Submitted by turdferguson1971 last September 20th 2007, 06:09 AM

Everyday like clockwork, he comes at 1:30 in the afternoon, to swim. I watch him from my third floor window of my apartment, felling a little dirty, a little guilty and a bit shameful. I should go down there and at least try meet him. But each day when I try, my legs betray me and my mind cries off. I can not spend my time wishing for him and never even saying “hi” to him.

Now, as he strips off his clothes to his very small and very tight swim shorts, my breath stops short ea

Submitted by Jamie0820 last May 6th 2007, 06:05 AM

When I started writing for Pride Story.Com, I was afraid I might run out of things to write about but events seem to be happening around me that I have got to share.

I work as a consultant in the Phoenix Metropolitan area and one of my clients is a designer and manufacturer of high end custom furniture.

Occasionally when I am available I will work in their showroom with my clients. I was scheduled to work on a Sunday, which is by appointment only with a new client