Your erotic stories

It was the middle of July. Ninety plus degrees with heat advisories but here I was pushing the mower over the world's largest lawn because Dad had been ragging me about getting it cut. I'm dressed in shorts and tennis shoes, soaked in sweat barely able to keep a grip on the slick handle imagining I'm about to collapse as I finally finish the last strip of grass.

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When Dad was alive he took real good care of Mom. For as long as I can remember Mom has been a sleep walker. Dad had a thin line tied between his leg and Mom's ankle and when ever she started sleep walking he would guide her back to bed. She did not always sleep walk but when ever she felt stressed she would. Like the time her brother Walter was injured in a car accident. Mom woke up three times that night and Dad had to get her back into bed.

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"You're late." The steely tone in Amy's voice let Graham know he was in trouble, that was her "Don't-mess-with-me" voice. "I'm sorry, traffic was murder." Amy Welles didn't like people being late, it was one of her Pet Peeves. Graham knew full well it was a flimsy excuse and Amy would call him on it.

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My family was brought up with the ideal that nudity was different than sex. Me, my sister, and my parents could all be naked around each other and it wasn't sexual, it was just the way we were. We weren't nudists, though, we didn't go to nudist colonies or nude beaches. But when we were at home, we would relax by taking off our clothes.

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Working in construction for so long I've been able to work my way up to foreman; which in my case, basically means that I point out what others are to do and I don't do much physical labor anymore. I've been doing this, with the same company, for almost twenty years now, starting when I was just seventeen. I've been able to keep myself in great shape, physically and sexually. It's no secret that there's a special category for construction workers in a lot of women's, and men's, fantasy worlds. I've been able to take advantage of a lot of a lot of those feelings over my career and I hoped to keep it up as long as I could. After all, I'm only thirty-six years old; I expect to be able to fuck like a madman for another few decades.

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So my sister Missy was a stripper. So what. I had some problems with a few of my friends when they found out; endless questions and defense of her character. It was even worse if friends actually saw her perform. I had a real falling out with a friend who, drunk, asked me if I ever wanted to fuck her. That stuff was tough to deal with, but, hey, I was her brother and it was my job to defend her. She was an adult and could do what she wanted.

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It all started when I was eighteen after graduation ceremony I took part in the all night party that the town puts on for all the seniors. I'm not really into the party scene mainly because I'm in a wheelchair and most homes aren't easy to access and with thirty to forty drunk people stumbling around it isn't really that safe for myself or them. I spend most nights at home either on the computer or watching television. My father died when I was a baby leaving mom and I to fend for ourselves which was hard on us both.

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About a half hour later Ann came out all dressed, purse and keys in hand ready to leave. I was surprised that she was leaving because normally she would just hang out till Chris came home and asked her hey what's up? She was a bit shaky which IS NOT normal. I'm going run some errands and will be back later.

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I should've known that when my hot shot older brother came back from his sixth year in college that things would be exactly the same, well maybe not exactly the same. I am six years younger than he is. Over the six years that he's been away I have grown up quite a bit. My hips filled out as well as my breasts. After years of dancing my legs have become strong and perfectly shaped. My stomach toned and my ass firmed and became round.

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I was feeling dejected. The latest girl I had asked to the Sweetheart Dance, had rejected me out of hand. At twenty-two, I wasn't a bad looking guy it's just that the local Monterey women had plenty of men stationed at Fort Ord from which to choose.

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