Your erotic stories

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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Vanessa McCall threw her purse on the couch and then checked her self on the mirror. She smiled looking at her pristine face and glanced approvingly at her voluptuous, firm breasts, which despite having an 18-year-old step-son, were delightfully full and firm. Vanessa knew that she was still a very attractive woman and she took pleasure in the flattering glances and stares of men even as young as her own son. After having admired her body for a couple of minutes Vanessa made her way to her bedroom.

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Jessie was running a little short on cash for the next year of college, his mom and dad helped him out a lot but they thought that he should earn his own spending money, doing odd jobs around town, mowing lawns raking leaves and so on. What he really had his heart set on though, was a car. "We are going to get you a nice new car when you graduate son." His father told him, when he asked to borrow some money.

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When Jack and Lisa, friends from my college days, asked me to be the photographer for their wedding I was more than happy to oblige. I had been doing wedding photography on the side for about five years and was getting more and more comfortable with my results. Little did I know that this assignment would be quite different from all the rest.

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