Your erotic stories

No sooner had the key turned off in the ignition than I saw disaster about to strike. Snatching open the car door, I raced across the street. "Wait!" I yelled as I Olympic-hurdled a lawn sprinkler. Three feet up a ladder, Mrs. Kemp turned to look at me. She smiled and stepped back down. "Hey, Jimmy. When did you get home?" Panting to catch my breath, I gave her a grin. "Came in... late last night." I pointed over my shoulder at my car. "Mom had me to go grab a few things at Wally World for her."

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I had been married for 10 years but was newly divorced and on the dating scene again. I was raring to get out there, flaunt my stuff and have fun for once in my adult life. Since I was a bit older than most of my competition at the bars and clubs I hung out at, I had to work a little harder than the 20-somethings to make myself look "hot." I worked out five times a week, watched what I ate and I didn't smoke or drink more than a few glasses of wine with dinner.

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I focused on the backs of her legs and turned the little wheel of the binoculars with my thumb to sharpen the image. She was bending over one of her pots and pinching something on a plant to remove it. Her dress was riding higher and I glimpsed an extra three inches of white thigh. As she attempted to stand erect she put both hands behind her back and straightened with an effort.

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Bette and I had different travel schedules, so I couldn't see her again for a couple of months. We both had booths at that last big fair of the season, though, and planned to get together then. "And this time," she told me, "I'll get us a real room." My camper-van is fine for just me but not the best for entertaining a lady, even if it had given us a magical first time together.

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Over the years, countless young women from the city and the surrounding area have come to me to start their modeling careers or even to branch into adult modeling. Some of the women I have seen through my cameras have appeared in magazines worldwide. Others were discovered by my network of contacts and eventually landed acting jobs at various levels. A few have appeared in major adult magazines, and two of them now have their own adult Web sites for which I will do some photo shoots when they are back in the area.

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Until my Granddad passed away last year I had been going to see him quite regularly since he moved into a retirement village a few years ago. It isn't like an old peoples home where everyone looks like they have already passed onto the next life, it is a community of decent homes where elderly people are among others like themselves. It isn't a cheap place to retire to, most of the residents are quite wealthy, but they have taken the decision to let someone else look after their needs.

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It was a dark, calm, clear Friday night in May. Layla had just arrived at her friend Joy's house for a sleep over because they had not seen each other in quite a while. Joy lived towns away, so of course they did not attend the same school. They had kind of grown apart with time, but still very much enjoyed each other's company and would be eager to catch up on what was happening in each other's lives.

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"Really, Sidonie," I said. "I didn't come to New Orleans just so I could help you keep your kinfolk in order!" My friend from college days grinned at me, lifting a rake through her big chestnut hair. Gavin, her husband, sat on the bed patiently channel-surfing while she finished getting gussied up for their evening out on the town. She was dressed in a red satin shirt, black leather pants and Doc Martens, and Gavin was equally street- and party-ready, although far less dramatic, in chinos and a polo shirt.

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I had one year to go in my studies, at university, for my degree in public relations, arts, and media studies. I was starting to get a bit desperate for money. All my university bills were due. I was working part time in a coffee shop, but that had more or less stopped, since I had refused to have sex with the owner, even though he offered to pay me 200 dollars. I just did not fancy his big fat sweaty body on mine, and I knew he would want more and more if I agreed.

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That day started like any other first day of preschool for Julie. She greeted the returning children as well as the newcomers. Parents milled around the room to see what new things Julie had set up for the children to do. As she was speaking to one concerned parent, she noticed a tall man standing in the doorway, with a large Stetson in his hand. Wrapped around his leg, was a small girl in a pretty green dress and saddle shoes. She seemed to be terrified at what she was seeing.

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