Your erotic stories

I sat in the huge meeting hall of the San Diego Convention Center waiting for the keynote speaker to begin his insightful, though most likely useless, remarks. The hospital I worked for had sent me on an all expenses paid vacation from the drudgery of the nine to five office grind in hopes I'd pick up some gems on how to improve the bottom line. Such gems hardly ever come from keynote speakers. If gems are to be found, it will be in the working sessions later -- keynote addresses are about as useful and practical as your commencement speaker's advice to your class when you graduated.

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When I was little I used to sit outside with my Grandmother on her wide front porch and we would dream about what we would do to the gardens one day. It was one of my favorite things to do with her when I was visiting. My parents died when I was in my early twenties and my Grandmother was all I had left. Eventually I moved to New York City and made my life there, becoming a very successful writer. I had more money than I knew what to do with and I would send her checks, telling her to make her special garden.

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I was going on a fishing trip into Old Mexico - a trip I'd dreamt of and planned for years, because at first I couldn't afford it and then because I could never find the time. The last thing I needed was a handful of trouble in the form of my neighbor, Cassie's, daughter. When Jessie was a lot younger, I was sort of her adopted Dad, because her real one just left in the middle of the night - a school teacher that ran away with one of his students.

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My best friend Nick had gotten me a job with him working at a local, Mom and Pop Grocery store. It was small, but then again, so was the town. One of those places with a population that hadn't as yet reached a thousand, though there was hope of that happening sometime during the year. I had just turned 18, and didn't as yet own my own car. Which was one of the reasons I had taken on a near full-time job while still attending school.

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"No! For the last time, will you shut-up about this?" Rachel was scowling at her boyfriend who was laying in bed beside her. Dan still retained a mildly smug expression after their sex which had finished some minutes ago, although the truth was she had faked her orgasm. She wasn't proud of that but Dan always liked to make a big deal about making her climax and it was far easier to let him feel this way. Like many women she didn't often orgasm through penetration.

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Like most young girls, my fancy has always been that of older men. I am unsure whether its the experience or just the maturity that makes them more appealing than most guys my age, but I have found that most older men tend to flirt more with the younger girls as well. Out of all I have met though, there has only been one to make me weak with just a simple wink.

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I knew the coming discussion would change my life, yet I debated with myself whether it was for the better or worse. My wife decided that we could not live together anymore and filed for divorce. The court served papers on me today. I spent most of the day packing my clothes and personal belongings into a small U-Haul. The discussion we began was how to split joint property. I knew she wanted the property in town with higher real estate value.

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"No! Fuck you! I'm not doing it, and you can't make me!" I could hear the girl next door screaming at her parents again, and I knew that this time, it was about me, or rather, the deal that I had offered her parents. Amber was 18, very beautiful, a bit thin for my tastes, but a raging bitch and brat. An only child, she basically got what she wanted, and when she didn't, she yelled and screamed.

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"Going anywhere nice this month Mr. Tunny?" the nurse asked as she watched Harold get his coat on and head for the door "Oh just for a stroll and maybe to the shops nurse" the old man smiled back as he put his hat on and went to kiss his wife goodbye before he went out. Harold Tunny was 73 years old and lived with his 78 year old wife Angela in a cosy little retirement home, over the course of their lives they had made some good money and could have stayed in their house which was rather spacious,

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I was on my way over to Karen's little home studio, Bob Segar was wailing away on my stereo, I was feeling fine. Karen always made me feel fine, if you saw her you would know just what I mean. Maybe 30 at the most, she is a Licensed Massage Therapist. ALL massage therapists should look like her, long dark hair, a set of boobs to die for. Just a trace of a pouty Bardot type tummy and sway back, blending down to an ass that gave me a reason more than once to reach for my dick.

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