Your erotic stories

It's not pleasant growing old. They tell you when you retire from work that you can relax into your twilight years, and see out your days in peace and tranquillity. Well, I'm – let's say 70-something – now, and ever since I left the job I'd loved for over 40 years, lecturing in Classical Mythology at Girton College, Cambridge, my life has been in a constant state of flux.

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When I took over as chair of the office social committee, I was not aware that one of the tasks I'd inherited from the previous chair was helping the boss set up for the company Christmas party that he hosted at his house. It wasn't something I should have had to do, but the previous chair had set a precedent that I was then obliged to uphold. It wasn't all bad, though, since the party was on a Saturday night and they offered to let me get ready over there rather than having to run home and run back.

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Every one knows that high students often have crushes on their teachers, especially if the teacher is not bad looking and is sympathetic to their adolescent problems. And the crushes can go both ways, even all three ways. Female students may have a crush on their male teachers. Male students may have a crush on their female teachers. Or even a student of one sex may have a crush on a teacher of the same sex.

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Eight months I have taken to cross this vast land. I had no conception of the vastness of this continent. Looking at a map of Australia one never realises the vast distances there is between towns, well a few houses clustered together in this land is called a town. Now here I was standing on the escapement looking down at the City of Perth. In the east I was told it was just a hick town, no night life and the kangaroos run all over the streets.

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I awoke early this Saturday morning, just like I did every other morning. Not having an active social life left plenty of time for "early to bed, early to rise." Don’t get me wrong, I very much wanted an active social life, but I was shy. To tell the truth, I was painfully shy at times, especially those times when meeting or socializing with girls was on the agenda. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't a virgin, I had had some experiences with girls, but to this day I suspect that the two girls who did it with me were more motivated by sympathy than true feelings of romance, or even lust for that matter. Let me tell you, being the object of a sympathy fuck did nothing for my self-esteem or my shyness.

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I was thrilled when I answered the phone. "Hi, Bruce, it's Sandy!" Sandy! Sandy had been a photography student for several years, starting when she was a freshman in high school, and all the way through. The summer before college, however, we had parted ways. I had thrown her out of my darkroom for acting irresponsibly, making appointments to print in my darkroom for a show she'd gotten at a local restaurant, and then not showing up. She left angry. I was heartbroken. She was now almost out of college, 22 and grown up. I hadn't seen her in four years.

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I flicked a speck of dust from the gleaming bonnet of my pride and joy, a British racing green blower Bentley just like the one that James Bond drove in the early Bond novels and the same car that starred in Fleming's other book Chitty, Chitty, Bang, Bang. It stood amongst over a thousand other gleaming and beautifully restored Vintage and Veteran vehicles that were about to take part in the Bi-annual Bay to Birdwood rally from West Beach to the National Motor Museum at Birdwood in the Adelaide hills.

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I enjoy young women; not that an older woman can't do things that are fantastic, but I just prefer them young. Matter of fact, the younger the better. Nothing under 18 mind you, but still 18 to 25 is my preference. Look at me and you might say, "Sure Pops, guess you would like something you can't get". Agreed, I am past my 45th birthday, but I still get my share. Sometimes it is the age that works the magic for the young ones. True, stamina is not my forte' and washboard abs are not mine to display.

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My parents leased an old farm house belonging to a small estate as a summer house. I had spent all my summers there since being a kid. It was very nice although sometimes a bit lonely for a young boy. But the summer when I had turned 18 Thomas had moved to the estate with his parents. Although he was a year older we quickly made friends. We talked for hours of girls and sex and getting laid. He also had some porn magazines that we studied until they tore apart.

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I am an engineer, an entrepreneur and a businessman with considerable experience. By the tail end of the dot.com frenzy, I learned enough about business during that heady time to know that as soon as a small company is profitable, those profits turn into growth and growth turns into interest from large companies wanting to break into certain markets. That interest means they want to buy. The margins for small businesses aren't large in most cases, so people make real money by selling the company before it gets too large.

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