Your erotic stories

This story happened when I was 19 years old during my summer vacation from university. I had just returned to my hometown, staying with my parents, it felt really good to be back home, seeing my family and friends again. After a few weeks back, I had decided it was about time that I should look for a job, after all, I needed the money for when I returned back to uni, even more so now that tuition fees have increased.

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Carol, my best friend and lover, was lying naked next to me with her head on my chest. I was stroking her face when she looked up at me and nuzzled her chin into my grey beard. She said " I liked that game we played this morning. When you let me mark the places on my body with honey that I wanted you to lick, that was very kind and thoughtful. Where did you learn to do that?"

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I listen to a woman's voice singing in a language I have forgotten, drinking tea I can not name. In a place I can not pronounce. Yet for all that I spent years here. The air is full of the strange smells that are now as foreign to me, as I am to this place. Yet they are so very familiar at the same time. Haunting smells filled with old half-forgotten memories.

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Chapter One "Annie is my 2 o'clock here yet?" Dr Janet Waters released the button on the intercom. "Not yet. Shall I send him in when he gets here?" Annie replied. "Yes please." Janet Waters released the intercom button and took a glance out the window. Fall colors were beginning to emerge on the hillsides surrounding Salt Lake City. Moving her eyes to the traffic four floors below her office window, Janet thought that perhaps the heavier than usual traffic on the streets below were causing her next patient to run a little behind schedule.

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Memory triggers. They come rushing at you when you least suspect them. You can walk into a house and take in the heady aroma of a cake being baked and you'll be transported back to your grandmother's kitchen. You can smell an empty beer bottle and suddenly there you are playing hide and seek behind a pile of your uncle's empties. Smell is our most powerful sense and we all have a repertoire of aromatic triggers nicely tucked away in that gluggy grey mass we call a brain.

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I was watching a movie the other day, with academy award level acting by the way, where a housewife fucks the plumber when he came by to "fix" the pipes. It reminded me of a role playing situation, I found myself in quite unexpectedly one night. It involves me, a certain man of whom I had a very active sex life with (two guesses for my fans), and

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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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"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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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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