Your erotic stories

"Whoa, Whoa, who's the new kid?" Betty said turning to the three other ladies seated at the picnic table. "Billy, he's here to fix whatever goes wrong in this place," said Wendy looking up from her sandwich. The four ladies ate lunch every day at the picnic table outside the daycare where they all worked. They were all great friends and enjoyed their daily girl-talk even through there wasn't a one of them under the age of forty.

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At 28 years old I hadn't been with a man for three years. The first two years after my husband died, I couldn't bare the thought of another man touching me. I felt like it was cheating. Jake wasn't supposed to die in that car accident. He was supposed to grow old and gray with me. Jake was gone and I knew I had to move on, but acknowledging this didn't make things any easier. Still, at twenty-eight I wasn't willing to spend the rest of my life alone.

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I had been employed at my new company for just about nine months. Twenty-two, having just gotten out of college, and not finding a job in my field of study, computer software design, I was very glad to be working anywhere. It's a pretty big operation, three large buildings covering twenty acres of property. Manufacturing, that's where I work, R&D, and executive offices are all located here. It employs a huge number of people, and obviously, there is no way to know everyone who might be a co-worker. Therefore, the company holds a large, dinner-dance, once a year for its employees.

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"Well, I have like 45 minutes to kill," sang the high-pitched, sweet teen voice of my daughter's curvy Latina friend Marisa, "would you like a sloppy blowjob?" My ears weren't expecting that question, and I swear I must have blushed. Perverted middle-aged fathers don't get that question often, or at least, this one doesn't. Or hasn't before at least. Maybe she saw me staring at her ample boobs in her tight babydoll, or she detected my eyes on her stellar round butt in that thin little skirt a few minutes earlier.

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I had made the trip from the little cottage across the street and about 50 feet down countless times but never faster than that afternoon in June of 1976. After I sprinted blindly from our neighbor's back yard, a yard I had mowed for the last four years - not even watching for cars on the rarely traveled gravel road - I ran into our house and closed the door. Closed it and locked it and then looked through the blinds for what was about to happen.

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I thought at the time I had the worst luck in the world. There I was, standing on the shoulder of an interstate somewhere in Western Pennsylvania, eighteen wheelers rumbling by as I stared at my 1982 Toyota Celica. I'd opened the hood to see if I could figure out what was wrong, but had no clue. A few minutes earlier it started making a worrisome thumping sound and then stalled out. I was barely able to maneuver my way onto the shoulder safely.

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The mid-term grades had just been posted and most of the class crowded around the board trying to see. I was near the back of the crowd and just waited. "Wow Bob, an 'A'! You must be a genius." I looked behind me to see Jean, one of the nicer looking women in the class. "What did you get?"

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Alan's mother, Nora, had retired to a gated community to golf away her twilight years. Her comfortable home was across the street from Jim and Sally. They had been so nice to Nora when she moved in, shortly after the death of her husband, Alan's dad. Jim was a retired banker who married late in life. He was in his late 70's now, while Sally was in her early 50's. He was a tall slim southern gentleman. She was a short bubbly blonde who was aging gracefully. She stayed active enough to look a few years younger than she was. She was devoted to Jim.

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The conversation with his physician was just the kick in the butt that he needed. Brian James was 59 years old, recently widowed and lost. His marriage of 33 years was a good one. He and Laura enjoyed a loving relationship and a healthy sex life. At times they were adventurous, but never what one would call "kinky". They enjoyed "Viagra-free" sex until two years ago when Laura was diagnosed with uterine cancer.

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The weather was getting colder by the minute or at least that's the way it seemed every time they talked about it on the TV. It was snowing but not too hard YET. The forecast was calling for six or seven inches before midnight. The way it was going I would get to my cabin around seven so I should be all right. I'm thirty-one and work in Manhattan as a lawyer and have a hunting type of log cabin as a retreat up in the Maine woods.

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