Your erotic stories

"I can't believe she came," Carol hissed, her eyes following the brunette as she walked through the door. "Dan's biological mom?" I asked, looking where my wife was looking. "She was with my dad just long enough to give birth to my brother and then walk out on them. I can't believe she would show up here." Carol shook her head in disbelief, watching the older woman break into a group of my in-law's friends, smiling and laughing with them before they nervously broke away.

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Danielle and I were making out on the couch. I had just unbuttoned her blouse and was about to lower my mouth to her braless breasts. She has tits to die for, and I never get tired of looking at them. Just as I got my lips on one of her nipples....the phone rang. "Shit!" "Let the machine get it." I sucked it into my mouth, just as the answering machine spewed out this very familiar voice. Danni jumped up and grabbed for the phone. I had drool on my chin.

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The beach was clean that morning, as it was every morning. Throughout the night, the caress of the surf had swept away all the sandcastles and pock marks left by the sunbathers and scampering children of yesterday. The broad expanse of sand was as smooth as a woman's inner thigh. At the edge of the wave's reach, a dark line of detritus had been deposited by those same waves.

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"What a nice place you have," you say to me, as you step into my home. You smile teasingly, "I didn't think a man could ever be this neat." "Thank you," I say with a sardonic grin, "I find it's easier to be neat. Do you mind leaving your shoes here? May I take your jacket and would you like something to drink?" "Fresh! I've just walked in and already you're taking my clothes off," you say, looking down coyly, then you smile to let me know you're joking. "I am thirsty, a glass of water would be nice." You step out of your pumps, then slip off the short sleeved bolero vest, and hand it to me.

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"Hi. What are you doing here?" I heard the familiar voice as I felt the tap on my shoulder. It was the girl who serves coffee to me every day at the local Starbucks. I instinctively stood as I turned to face her. "Hello. Well, I came to the restaurant for dinner, and since my table won't be ready for a while, I thought I'd come in to the lounge to have a drink and relax. How about you?" She laughed lightly. "Well, my date was supposed to meet me here over fifteen minutes ago."

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There is a lake bordering the Southwest side of my property, it's fairly large, and I have several hundred feet of shoreline, mostly trees and brush, with a few open areas. The rest of the lake is surrounded by National Forest, with the county road running along the western tip. Every so often campers will wander onto my land, so I make a habit of checking over that way weekly during the summer months.

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I was hanging out at my friend Victor's house, we were two 20 year old guys on spring break from college and life was good. His mom was a real sweetheart, divorced but very cheerful about everything still… she was also a total MILF. I mean, she was 45 years old, but her skin looked silky smooth, barely any wrinkles and no gray in her dark brown hair that hung straight to just below her shoulders. And she worked out every day, to old Jane Fonda tapes in the living room. I have to admit, it made my dick a little hard every time we passed by her while she bounced around in her spandex.

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I remember it as being one of 'those' weeks. Sunday was my twenty-second birthday and my mother took me to lunch at The Connaught. On such occasions, my mother likes to take charge. I think that the elderly couple at the next table thought that I was her Toy Boy. Oh well, if it brightened up their outing.

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Lisa closed her eyes and tried to remember every second of her dance with Craig last night. They had been at a small dinner party at the beach. She had gone with her mother and hadn't dressed to impress anyone. After all, everyone there knew everyone else. What she didn't know was that Craig's wife had passed away since she had seen him last, and this was supposed to be his first outing since the funeral.

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Privately, I call her ‘Little Miss Sulky’. Tara, my wife’s daughter from her first marriage is a mass of seething teenage hormones and temper tantrums wrapped up in a nicely curved-in-all-the-right-places, curly-blonde-headed package. She is an fairly ordinary, nice looking kid…no that’s not right, emerging young woman…or rather, she would be without the constant sulkily pouting lips and sullen frown. She really is very pretty when she smiles, which is all too seldom.

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