Your erotic stories

Paula Reardon, hot and bothered, placed the box into the open boot of her Honda hatchback. Most of the furniture was on its way, the rest tomorrow, and the house was half empty, and rather ghostly, now. Tomorrow she'd be away from here. Away from the abrasive memories Brian the Bastard had left her. Set up and living with his French floozie, wasn't he?

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Her passing had been very sudden. We had been sat together watching nothing in particular on the TV and she had slipped into a sleep that I realised, eventually, was death. The family had been caring, the funeral sensitive and then followed the lowliness -- that awful sense that something was missing in my life. Our children had all left home, but living close, they had kept in touch, not oppressively, but supportively.

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Dana Lee Pruitt finished pulling her long, silky, blonde hair off of her face and tied it in a high ponytail near the top of her head. She was dressed in a pale blue bikini top that matched her eyes. It did a better job of revealing her firm, champagne glass tits than it did of hiding them. She owned a matching thong to go with the top but currently wore a pair of skin tight, black, Lycra bicycle shorts instead of the thong.

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"When a person does not give up on sex, sex does not give up on the person." (Gabriel Garcia Marquez) Tania sat on an air mattress beneath the old apricot tree that was one of the trees that constituted the orchard part of the garden. Beyond the orchard and screened from her sight by a high brush fence was the swimming pool from which emanated the cries, squeals and laughter of the young people, Peter, her son's friends.

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I sat down with a heavy sigh of relief as my brother and I dropped the last, huge, brown box in front of our new couch. He heaved out a long winded breath of his own as his wiped his forehead with the back of hand. "Shit, I'm glad we're finally finished moving all of this useless junk..," He irritated mumbled as he smacked a pack of Newports against his palm and pulled one out of the pack, along with a plastic lighter.

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Stephanie breathed a deep sigh as she once again sat in traffic on the interstate. Yet another commute in a life full of them. It seemed that this was all her life had been since her divorce five years ago. Commute, work, commute, sleep, commute, work and so on and so on. At age forty-six she needed a change, but the rut she was stuck in was so deep it seemed that climbing out would be impossible. Today was just like any other day except it was Wednesday, not Tuesday or Friday or even Monday. It was just another day in a string of days that seemed to never change.

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I grew up in Charleston SC. My mother and my father had divorced when I was 12. Mom met my stepfather, and moved my sister and I to Charleston after they were married. It's a nice place, but I digress... Ms. Wells was probably the toughest teacher at my high school. She was very demanding and accepted nothing less than 100% from her students. The problem I had was that school always came easy for me. Not much of a challenge, if you know what I mean. For most teachers, that was enough. Not for Ms. Wells though.

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I've had my share of lovers, but there's always something special about the first. Here name was Eve, and this is my ode to her. This story takes some time to develop, so if stories like that aren't your cup of tea you might want to skip it. I'm not sure where to begin, so I guess good place to start would be to describe the principle people involved and a bit of their backgrounds. First, a little bit about myself at the time. I was eighteen, and still a virgin.

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I had never felt so lonely in my life as the day I returned to my home after cremating my wife. Suddenly I realised just how much I missed her and had depended on her always being there by my side. I had to be truthful with myself I had taken her for granted, for she never complained, but must have been in extreme pain these last few months until that dreaded 'C' took her away.

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I had just parked my truck, which sometimes can be not exactly an easy thing to do. It took me at least a half dozen trips around the parking lot looking for a space large enough. That is because it is a huge Dodge crew cab, oversize duallies on the back that sort of stick out. Yep, she needs a bit of room. I opened the door and had just put my foot on the running board to step down, being careful to not let the door scrape the top of the little thing parked in the next lane.

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