Your erotic stories

First of all, I want to say thank you to those people that have written with feedback. It is always good to know what you the readers want to see. * * * * * Carrie followed me to the kitchen keeping her eyes on the floor. I didn't know what to think about this new attitude. She had been so bubbly. I walked out to the eastern porch and noticed the sun was well overhead and it was getting hot. "Carrie, what time is it?"

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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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Sometimes, I couldn't stand my father. I believed it was his fault my mom killed herself. He was gorgeous and he could have anyone he wanted, and so he did. He cheated on her all the time. Men, women, she-males. And he would bring them home since mom died, not caring I was in the house. He was the dominate type, I would hear them begging for him, he told them too. I wouldn't be surprised if I had siblings out there I never knew of.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: My sincerest thanks to everyone who offered feedback on part 1 of this story. I've tried to incorporate your suggestions as best as possible. This may still be slower than some of you would prefer, but I kinda like where it's going. I hope the rest of you do, too. Let me know either way. For those of you interested in just the sex, skip down about 1/3 of the way. For those of you that are U2 fans, get your playlists ready.

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All characters are 18+. This is my first submitted story and I would welcome any advice on how to further improve my writing skills. Enjoy! ***** The back door was shut slowly. A quiet wine emanating from the hinges as the latch flicked into place. A small, young raven haired girl turned around. Her beady eyes looking towards the clock upon the kitchen wall. It read 1:36.

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"Told you I'd come visit you tonight," Arthur Preston whispered as he slid under the sheet and slid next to his granddaughter Lisa, and although the single bed made for cramped quarters, as Lisa's grandfather moved against the skinny teen the snug fit suited the frisky senior citizen just fine. "What if Mom or Dad come in?" Lisa asked as he felt her grandfather's hand on her shoulder. "They won't," he assured his granddaughter, who made no move to stop his hand as it came off of her shoulder and moved toward her breast.

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"Oh Daddy!" I squealed as I hugged him. "I have not seen you in years." "I know my little Sweet Sweet," he looked me up and down. "You've grown into a beautiful woman." I knew I was not the same as I was when I was nine. My parents divorced when I was 7 and we all ended up moving to different states. I came back to my hometown for I knew home is where the heart is.

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This is the sequel to "Night of Lust for a Small Woman". I suggest you to read it, for a better understanding, but it's not strictly necessary. The characters are: -CAROL, nickname "Child" : a lovely, middle-aged, small housewife, who is captured and repeatedly raped by a gang of tall, strong convicts.

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I didn’t think I was normal at first, and not for a long time after that. I mean, boys don’t fantasize about their mother, do they? Well, I didn’t think so at the time. It started about as soon as I was old enough to do it. It’s not hard to imagine why. She was a young boy’s ideal; an intoxicating combination of warm smile, sweet smell, and full breasts.

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