Your erotic stories

Imagine munching into a big ripe juicy peach. Sweet-sharp flavour bursts into your mouth. Juices you cannot possibly capture all of flow unchecked down your chin. Hedonism! You take another bite. The juices flow once more, but you ignore them. You take another mouthful and abandon yourself to the pleasure. They are ripe peaches, all the young mothers wheeling their tiny new infants in their carriages in the summer sunshine.

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I didn't like Carl when I met him. I liked him even less when I realized what he was up to. The place was an upscale bar in a big city. It doesn't really matter where. It could have been anywhere. It could have been in your hometown. You know the kind of bar I'm talking about. Lots of wood, a friendly but quiet bartender, maybe a little jazz trio on some nights. It was the sort of watering hole businessmen and vacationers stop in after a day's selling, conferences or touring. A nice place.

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It's been 6 months since I first hired you at my law firm. You've done and excellent job, too- staying late to make sure everything has been filed, taking work home with you, getting to work early. I can't think of a single employee that works half as hard as you. But aside from all of these qualities, what I appreciate most is your, umm, obedience in all things. I know from asking around and the amount of work that I dump on your desk that you don't have a girlfriend at the moment.

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It was almost 9:00 PM when he finally took the elevator down from his office. It had been a stressful day, the boss on a rampage, pressure to complete a major report with the deadline unexpectedly moved ahead. He had worked his ass off to get it done, but now found at least some personal satisfaction in knowing it was finished and that he had done his best on it. And to top things off, his ex had been on the phone several times during the day, bitching at him about god knows what.

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I prefer older women. Or to be politically correct, "mature" women. I'll take a "mature" woman in her 40s or 50s any day over someone who is younger. Why? My experience has been that mature women are more comfortable with their bodies. They are more open to receiving and giving sexual pleasure and are more open to sexually adventuresome activities like lots of oral, role playing, anal, and if you are lucky, you can find a mature women that is open to threesomes and more, if you know what I mean.

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It's a beautiful hot summer day and I'm in the front garden admiring my hard work. Weed free beds, blooming flowers soaking up the water I have given them, bees and butterflies dancing to natures tune. "Hey Mrs B, how are ya?" I'm startled, shaken from my reverie. I see Robbie's friend Dean on the pavement, looking young and fresh in shorts, jogging on the spot. I smile my automatic welcoming 'Mummy' smile.

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Elizabeth sighed. People had told her the first year after the divorce would be difficult, especially the holidays. But she hadn't thought to include Valentine's Day. It wasn't as if Geoff had actually sent her anything the last 3 years of their 6-year marriage…not even a card. Come to think of it, they hadn't really celebrated Valentine's Day at all…no dinner, no 'hey, it's a holiday' sex. Now she was faced with spending the evening with quilting bee or going to a restaurant in Chicago's Loop with the 'Newly Single' group her sisters' had signed her up for.

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There are many moments in life that one can see as stunning; I am witnessing such a moment. My home is in the mountains of Pennsylvania, when the snow falls across the landscape, especially around the holidays it reminds me that God,in his infinite wisdom, allows us the time to reflect and remember the beauty in our lives. It has been some time since I've written of my deliciously decadent liaisons. As you know, I am a lover of older men.

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Crash! The window shattered into a thousand pieces as shards of glass flew everywhere. I couldn't believe how hard I had struck the baseball with my bat. It seemed to fly in slow motion toward her window. As soon as the window shattered the other guys ran off like scared rabbits. Frozen in place, I just stood there. We had been playing baseball in the vacant lot since I was eight years old.

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She blew her hair from her face and looked at the flat tire, she then looked down at the white dress she was wearing. She then started to cry and that was how he found her. "Miss?" Kimberly turned around and wiped a tear from her cheek, before looking up at the man in front of her. "Yes?" she asked, though she knew what he was going to ask her.

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