Your erotic stories

The light was coming in around the blinds as he woke up. He thought he had dreamt that his roommate's mother had given him a fantastic blowjob. It was a very hot and sexy dream! But then he remembered - it had actually happened! She had come out to the family room to talk to him and almost caught him masturbating. One thing led to another and he stripped off his boxers and stood naked directly in front of her. He didn't know if she was a pro at it but she made his cock feel like it had never felt before.

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Jenni Adams parked her rusted pickup behind the Harper house and killed the engine, sat at the wheel as an east wind brought rain over the steep shingle roof and drove it hard against the windshield. The surf would be big today and she anticipated a fight getting through the waves. She wanted this moment to last, sitting perfectly still, letting the urge to swim build inside, the anticipation almost sexual. For Jenni, a lot of things were almost sexual.

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Early in the morning of August 21, 1863 William Clarke Quantrell and his band of Missouri ruffians sacked and burned the city of Lawrence, Kansas and changed my life forever. Amost all of the city was destroyed including the Lawrence Journal newspaper, where I worked, and the Eldridge House Hotel, where I lived. Fortunately I was in Topeka on that day, covering the newly-formed and very contentious Kansas Legislature.

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I was 18 and had a job as a paperboy for a while when I was growing up. Once a month I'd go around to all the customers and collect their payment. I had just about finished one day, but still had to collect from several new customers. I'd been dodging light showers for a while and was trying to hurry since I could see darker rain clouds coming in. In the process I'd gotten a bit wet but I didn't want to stop because I'd be getting paid as soon as I turned in these payments.

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I have had a thing for older women since I was a small child, even when I was really young I remember getting extra dirty just so my babysitter would give me baths. Nothing was beyond my young imagination to get naked in front of them, or have them touch me. I never outgrew that stage, in fact I would think it had the opposite effect, I become even more

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Jasmine couldn't remember the last time she had felt so desirable. It had been at least 6 or 7 years since her husband had shown any sort of affection, and both of the short-lived affairs she had engaged in, had done nothing to quell the longing within her. She was a 44 year old woman who had started to believe that by accepting the twin positions of wife and mother, she no longer had the right to be looked upon as a sexual being.

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I lived in a town where my mom and dad worked at a small state college; mom was an administrative assistant in the human relations department and dad was a lecturer in history. Laura Hughes worked as a women's tennis coach and women's health counselor at the college. She was a good friend of my mom and had straight, shoulder-length, blonde, hair, large green eyes, and prominent cheek bones. She was in good shape. She was the star forward on an over-30 women's basketball team, aptly called, "The Matures," and my mom played a guard on the team.

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If you asked our friends and neighbors, "Hey, what kind of couple are Ingrid and Ben?", I'm sure they'd all say, "Oh, they're very nice, very quiet." Just another dull suburbanite couple, laid-back and conservative. Appearances, as they say, can be deceiving. Maybe my friends would mention the fact that I'm a very attractive woman, the archetypical Scandinavian beauty, with pale, ice-blonde hair, china blue eyes, and flawless alabaster skin.

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You are finally coming into town. You said for business, but I don't care what the reason, I am just glad to finally see you. I race to meet you at the restaurant. There are butterflies in my stomach. We have chatted and talked on the phone for so long now. So much flirting and longing to be with you. When I arrive at the restaurant, I see your truck is already there, and I start to feel a little better. When I get inside, I scan the room for you, and see you stand up and motion me over to your table. You've been keeping an eye out for me and you smile as I get close to the table.

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My name is Waylon Fielding and I am married to a wonderful woman, my wife Celine Fielding. I would like to say that my life is perfect, or even good, but after two years of marriage I'm pretty freaking miserable and it's all Celine's fault. Actually, it really isn't her fault; it's her Mother's, the lovely Melissa Harmon.

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