Your erotic stories

So many times as a child, then a young man, I walked the few short miles down to the small hill. There was a tall chain link fence at the bottom of the hill, I could have climbed that but I never did. On the hillside was soft grass, the type that never gets really tall, and it is always green, even in dry periods. I never did know what kind of grass that was, at that very young stage of my life I never even thought of it.

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Martin sat in the dark of his bedroom and stared out the window into the night. His modest home where he and his wife June had raised their 3 children was quiet now. He could hear June breathing softly in her sleep. The dog rustled and snorted in his sleep but Martin was still awake. He was nearing retirement and the accounting of his retirement capital wasn't looking too good. Though he had worked consistently and hard through his 40+ years of employment, the money just did not seem to stick to his savings account.

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Tim yawned hugely as he padded downstairs, an empty glass in his hand. He almost tripped over his feet at the bottom, and steadied himself with a muted curse. The morning was cool, the house enveloped in a pre-dawn glow. He walked into the kitchen, resting the glass in the sink. Butterball, the fat ginger queen of his home, wrapped herself around his legs. He smiled, and felt the cat's purr against his leg. He bent to retrieve the cat food from under the sink.

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I had known Emily since she was a baby. I watched her grow from a young child to an exuberant teen and finally to a very sexy young adult. Yes she was half my age, and to be honest, when she was an 18-year-old gymnast, there were times that I had less than wholesome thoughts about her, but as every father thinking things like that about their kid's friends, I kept them well to myself. I suspect that as she grew into her early twenties, those full body hugs she gave me, the ones where she couldn't seem help but press her hips tight to mine, were an indication that she had picked up on those hidden desires.

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I have to confess that I was surprised when I heard the doorbell ring about mid-morning Sunday. Who would come to visit me that early and especially on a Sunday? I thought that maybe, just maybe, it was my brother and his wife on their way back from church. We lived pretty close to each other, so if he needed to borrow a tool or something he might stop by.

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"I'm not ready to go back yet, but it's not like there's anything I can do about it, so I might as well just go with it," I said, half-staring down at my own feet. It was the day before I would begin the long four of years of the hell that was high school, and although I was intrigued by the idea of new people, a new building, and hopefully better food, my excitement and enthusiasm ended there. I had despised being a freshman in junior high, and I was just about to endure another year of the lowly freshman life, this time in a slightly bigger building.

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"I was afraid you'd never speak to me again, Edie." David ran a hand down my arm and a shiver followed behind, sending goosebumps popping across my skin. "I don't know what possessed me to take a risk like that." He looked at me carefully. I waited, heart beating hard. It seemed to take ages from the time he began to bend toward me until his lips touched mine. I thought, in that seemingly endless interval, I would faint from anticipation and disbelief.

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MATH TEACHER, MRS. ROGERS I was adopted by a loving couple and raised in a small town in Northeast Ohio. When I was 18 years old in high school, I developed a strong interest in math mainly because I had a very good teacher, Mrs. Pauline Rogers, who also was an attractive lady: about 5'2" and 120 lb, blonde, firm boobs, and slim legs. When ever I was close to her, I tried to inhale her intoxicating perfume. I worked hard to please her, who I guessed was about 35 years old. In turn, she was glad to have one male student interested in learning math. There were rumors that Mr.

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Bridgett was a single woman in her forties, tall and average looking; not one to stand out in a crowd, yet pretty in her own way. The chestnut hue of her hair with just a hint of auburn accentuated her mysterious lens-covered green eyes. Being a bit on the thick side she was never model material, but then again she never wanted to be and was happy with her appearance.

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It was going to be a long day, as Saturdays usually were. The weather was beautiful outside, which made me all the more bitter for being stuck at work. Library patrons always seemed more demanding on Saturday afternoons and doubly so on nice ones. They'd simply wave and beckon on me to attend to their needs. A dude has a to have a pretty strong stomach to deal with some of these people. The homeless people and the whores are always hooking up in this place.

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