Your erotic stories

The warm afternoon sun felt good on Nancy Horne's legs. So did the feeling of her husband's hand on her inner thigh and his fingers lazily caressing her soft skin. She smiled, looking down at Bill's hand on her, just below where he had pulled the hem of her skirt up to uncover her shapely, tanned legs. Her golden blonde hair shimmered in the sun and her brown eyes seemed to sparkle with excitement. When Nancy saw her husband's hand begin to disappear under her skirt and inch towards her damp panties she placed her hand on his wrist, stopping him.

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MATURE HEDDA IS PREGNANT I attended a clinic for football coaches for three days in Orlando and returned home well after midnight; Hedda, my lover, was asleep and I did not want to wake her up. On the first morning of spring break, I smelled coffee as I got out of bed late; it meant Hedda was up. After a quick shower and drinking a cup of coffee, I went to the living room to find Hedda reclined on a sofa and talking on the cell phone. She had on a black, translucent, mesh, crotch-less, body stocking.

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This is quite pleasant, Fred thought, as he lounged by the community pool, located only steps from his retirement home. He had always liked to swim, even back in Ohio during the cold winters, and the size of the pool permitted him to lap swim and keep fit. Yesterday he did a half-mile, so this was his day to relax. When it cooled later, he would walk a mile or two around the village. It was too bad his ex-wife Betty couldn't enjoy this. Yeah, right, that bitch ran off with a wealthy business man five years ago.

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He sat in his favorite chair, on the back deck, enjoying the afternoon sun. He was feeling sorry for himself remembering old times with his ex-wife. Their union had not been the most exciting life experience. He, was however, looking forward to his ritual afternoon pleasure. He was on his fourth or maybe fifth beer when she finally made her appearance, his next-door neighbor who on any bright sunny afternoon made her ablutions to the sun god wearing nothing but a skimpy two-piece bathing suit. She was too young for him to guess her age, but he took a stab at it noting the maturity of her curves the width of her gorgeous hips and guessed between twenty-eight and thirty-five.

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"How'd you like to get hold of that?" Roger Goins asked as he stirred his fresh drink. Roger was one of those guys who always talked about strange pussy, but never seemed to make an attempt to get any. He was too pussy-whipped by his wife, Elaine, to take a chance. Me, I was on the look out all the time—but so was my wife, Shirley. It took about fifty years and four marriages for me to learn that a woman who liked to fuck all the time—the only kind I wanted to be married to—was going to fuck somebody else every now and then.

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Vikki came into my life through a business venture of mine. I had to make some contractual agreements with several not for profit organizations so they'd agree to lend me certain information that they had in their possession. Vikki put the contracts together so I wouldn't get myself into legal trouble. I was expecting to get a 60-ish balding lawyer when I contracted her firm for legal services and instead they sent her out. When we first met she was dressed quite smartly, as one would expect, and conservatively enough to satisfy even the most up tight executive.

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The summer after my sophomore year of college began as a boring one. I was taking summer school classes to fulfill a few perspectives so that I could concentrate on my major courses during my last two years of school. I had a work-study job during my time in summer school so the rent wasn't a problem at the time, but once summer school was over it was different story. I had no classes to go to, no job, no friends to hang out with (everyone I knew went home and my roommates were both still in summer school and had jobs), and nothing to do that would fill that empty void—that is until one fateful day in early July.

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It had been a long day, and all Jim Reynolds wanted to think about was taking in an evening run and enjoying a quiet Friday night at home. He had a full weekend planned ahead of him, finishing up the renovation work on his latest real estate investment. Running and working was his way of staving off depression. Since his divorce five years ago, he had been buying older homes, living in them while he updated them, and then selling them. If you didn't mind living in substandard conditions for a while, it was a good way to make a tidy profit outside regular work, and keep your mind off growing old alone.

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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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The day I slept late that July was unforgettable. I had just graduated high school and was gently preparing to go off to college, but mainly that summer I was relaxing – sleeping late and not having many plans. My sister was travelling somewhere in Europe and my parents were both working long days, probably thinking about my college expenses. We also had a house guest for a few weeks that summer. Leigh Chandler was an old friend of my mother's from her college days. Leigh had recently started a new job in town and was staying with us while she looked for an apartment.

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