Your erotic stories

"Your Mom's pretty hot," I whispered with a smile, nudging my girlfriend with my shoulder. I didn't see her roll her eyes, but I could just feel that look burrowing into my back, aimed right at my heart. My eyes were busy drinking in the aging vixen before me: 45 year old Deb Mason, 5'4", short gray hair, nice tight little farm-wife body. I could only hope that Meg would stay that good looking for the next 25 years, and my twitching cock was not in disagreement.

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More than a year on from his wife's premature death, Julian found himself increasingly thinking about sex. Adventurous though they had once been, during the later stages of their marriage, and especially during the last months of Joyce's illness, sexual activity had dwindled virtually to nothing. Julian had learned to go without, to put the idea out of his mind. But now, given his freedom, the old urges were resurfacing ever more frequently.

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This story takes place about six years ago when I was in high school. I was a senior and very much ready to get the hell out of school. But one thing I did regret was that I would not be able to see Mrs. Shannon again. She was my physical science teacher and one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen.

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I've been a single dad for about 6 years now. My wife died when our son was 12. It's not been an easy road for me, but I wouldn't trade it. My son and I have a very good relationship. Since my wifes death, I haven't really done any dating to speak of. I've been out a few times, but they were more friendship dates than anything else. Needless to say, sex has been pretty much non existent. I chose this lifestyle for a reason;

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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 stepped from the shower and looked at myself in the full length mirror. Like most women, I think that my butt is too big, and my breasts too small. My hair is a pleasing shade of brown, thanks to the skills of my hairdresser. The triangle of hair between my legs has telltale streaks of gray. "Fast chance anyone will be seeing THAT anytime soon," I thought to myself. "I guess I could be a hell of a lot worse at 58."

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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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My name is Tom, I am 60 years old (but have been told I look a lot younger), my wife passed away suddenly just over a year ago, for a long time I was very low, I just could not get used to her not being with me any longer. The couple that live next door were very good, Paul would come in for a chat and a drink and his wife Julie would shop for me, sometimes cook me a meal and help me clean the house.

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What a day! Partly cloudy and in the low-80's, a perfect day for doing some repairs on my boat. Warm enough to wear cutoffs and a tee-shirt, cloudy enough to avoid getting the inevitable burn that precedes my mid-summer tan. I have the good fortune to own a house and dock on a beautiful lake, courtesy of a very generous lawsuit settlement. At age 48, I'm semi-retired. Now, instead of putting bad guys in jail, I'm a self-employed writer and photographer working out of my lakefront home.

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Gina Slater knew she was in some bother the moment he walked into her kitchen through her back door. It was Tuesday morning and she had just got over the weekend, she had held a party for her husband's 45th birthday on Saturday night, and it had been a hoot, a riot, a terrific success, one she barely hoped for. All their friends, a lot of his colleagues had come, everyone had a great time, and the party had gone on and on.

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