Your erotic stories

It had been 15 years since her Harold had passed away, and Marge had gotten used to being alone. Of course, she had lady friends, and some male acquaintances, but at 66 years old, she had removed sex from her life, except the occasional fantasy about Brad Pitt or Tom Cruise. Harold had been the only man, except for a brief fling with his Best Man right after he passed. She chalked that up to grieving, and they had found comfort in each other, although he felt so guilty afterwards that they stopped it after 2 dates.

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By way of background, you might want to see my earlier stories Nightime Disturbance and She Wants Rid. Fortunately, Lisa the girl's virginity I took "properly" in She Wants Rid didn't become pregnant and I didn't really see much of her before we both started at our respective universities. This is another true story also set in the late 1980's when there were no such things as MILF's. Instead sexy older women were known by the colloquial term of "Mrs Robinson's." The following is the true story of my encounter with a certain Mrs R.

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My name is Sean. And this is more of a confession, rather than a story. Something happened to me with a very special lady. Because of her position in the community as the local women's club civic leader, dutiful churchgoing housewife, and us living in a small town (named Troy) things could get ugly if her husband, my girlfriend, and the community found out. I gotta tell someone though. So, it might as well be a perfect stranger...

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The summer of 1970 was the time, and the place was Holland Patent in rural central New York State. Arthur Connors was a recently retired man of 65 with a lot of time on his hands, and after his wife of 36 years had passed away a couple of years ago, that time seemed to pass more slowly. Deciding to take up gardening, Art cleared out the area near the fence out back that divided his property from the Miller's spread next door, and began planting tomatoes.

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After a short courtship, Mara and I married in a small ceremony with only a few close friends and family members present: her mother, my mother and father, her brother, and of course, my son Luke. Luke was 11 years old now, not the best age to go through such a large life change as getting a new stepmother, but then again, is there ever a good age for that? In any case, he was clearly feeling better than he had just after his mother died. He was performing better in school, and he seemed to be bonding with Mara.

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It was just past closing time as I looked through the shop window with great interest in the quiet side street I found myself on. I had the night to kill being away with business and had gone for a walk around the town's small streets before I went for something to eat. It was filled with corsets, girdles, suspenders and bras, all for the more middle aged but discerning lady. A couple of torso dummies at either end of the window display showed some lacy attire that really had me thinking.

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"Most men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them" - Thoreau Stepping into the break room, Tom was pleased to see that his usual seat next to Cerina wasn't taken. Cerina smiled at him as he sat down to her left. Her face was one of life's secret pleasures for Tom. "Hi, Cerina," Tom said with a shy smile.

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Dave was sweating. The sun was warm but not uncomfortably so - it felt considerably milder than the sun back in Orange - but dragging the bag along the street probably hadn't been the best idea. It was well-suited to the task but the route he had decided to take to the hostel he was booked into was rather longer in person than it had seemed on paper. As he trundled down 33rd Avenue, he espied some shady greenery which turned out to be a park.

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"Hi Brian, what are you wearing right how?" The voice on the telephone was low and rough as if she wasn't quite awake. "Not much." He answered her, but couldn't figure out who she was. The voice sounded faintly familiar, but he was not sure he knew who it belonged to. Brian wasn't doing much. In fact, he was standing in the bedroom, wearing only a towel around his neck, trying to decide if he wanted to go to bed early, or pull on some sweats, fix a late supper, and then open his briefcase and read for a couple of hours.

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ONE "AAAAaaaahhhh!!! Jesus!!!!" Candace moaned softly before biting her lower lip. She was bent over her large executive desk as Marcus pounded his long, thick shaft deep into her wet pussy. His hands were under her skirt, wrapped around her slim waist, her tiny panties stretched tightly between her ankles. Candace felt her breasts swinging beneath her and her stiff nipples were rubbing across the top of the desk.

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