Your erotic stories

I use hook-up apps as a way to travel I suppose. I don't have the luxury to flit about the globe taking selfies with landmarks, so more often than not, when I get to chat up a guy, I'm dipping my toe into a completely different life. To a degree, if and when we hook up, I become a different, more adventurous guy. And perhaps, ashamedly - when I'll leave town, there's no looking back.

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"What do you think I should do about him?" I asked my slightly younger sister Tina. "What do I think you should do?...... Get him in the house, fuck his young brains out and send him home until your ready for another go. That's what I'd do." "Why do I even bother talking to you. Your incorrigible. Besides, I'm old enough to be his grandmother."

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As might be expected, dinner that evening at the DeVries household was somewhat awkward. Christopher picked hesitantly at his pasta, not trusting his stomach. He just couldn't settle down. His heart would palpitate for twenty minutes at a stretch, and just as he'd start to relax he'd think of the delights he might earn in the next few months, and the whole process began again. He was getting exhausted just sitting.

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Please read Stories 1-3. Please comment on the story not the grammar I am telling my story for fun not an English exam. This is what actually happened those years ago. I like to start my stories with a brief recount of my previous stories.

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My wife Susie has always been open on the subject of sex. We love to have fun and use it as a game. We have been married for over 10 years and she is delightfully full figured. She has a great shape with nice round ample breasts and rear. She knew my fantasy was to have another women in our bed, but I never dreamed she'd ever make that cum true.

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I have never done anything like this before and I am nervous in even writing this. However, I would be doing myself an injustice by not telling this story because it marked the beginning of my independence and sexual awakening. I am a 49 year old woman, divorced with one daughter. My daughter was born when I was sixteen and I dropped out of high school when she was born. I did go back and get a degree when she was a year old.

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I was young, naïve, and in love. That is my excuse for my current situation. I have always heard that love can make you do strange things, but I never thought it would happen to me. Maybe I should start at the beginning.

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When Christopher DeVries arrived home from school, there was a simple message stuck to the refrigerator: Be here when I get back from work, we have to talk. Mom. The door had been purged of expired notes and grocery lists to make the message stand out. She had even thought to use the little magnet shaped like an exclamation point to pin it up.

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A few years ago friend of mine from college, a girl named Annie, opened a bar, and I helped her out for a couple of months by doing a little cooking and waitressing on weekends. On Friday and Saturday nights I’d leave the our two daughters with my husband and work until about midnight.

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When I write my stories, I am concerned with one an only one thing - trying to create a mood of tenderness and longing. Sometimes I probably over do it. And I end up getting into such heightened state, I get really worked-up - and I write most of the really "haunted" love stuff when I am right on the edge. When I re-read my stories, I can tell that parts were created in that shaky mind space.

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