Your erotic stories

Now an old man I was sitting in a railway carriage opposite two women dressed as nuns, one mature, the other quite young, My mind went back 60 years. At that time I was a member of what is now referred to as Special Forces but in my time as Special Operations. I was parachuted into France in early April of 1944 to prepare for the forthcoming landing later in the year. Everything seemed to have gone wrong, the first plane only got 50 miles before it had to turn back.

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This story happened when I was 19 years old during my summer vacation from university. I had just returned to my hometown, staying with my parents, it felt really good to be back home, seeing my family and friends again. After a few weeks back, I had decided it was about time that I should look for a job, after all, I needed the money for when I returned back to uni, even more so now that tuition fees have increased.

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I stood in front of Mrs. Moffit's room door, hesitating. I had asked her if I could stop by after the evening orientation, and find out what I'd missed at the group meeting. I was the only student from our team who had entered both a team and individual event and advanced to the national level competition in both. Now the time issues that arose from competing twice were starting to catch up with me.

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Carol, my best friend and lover, was lying naked next to me with her head on my chest. I was stroking her face when she looked up at me and nuzzled her chin into my grey beard. She said " I liked that game we played this morning. When you let me mark the places on my body with honey that I wanted you to lick, that was very kind and thoughtful. Where did you learn to do that?"

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Mark had moved in with his 19yr. old girlfriend, Donna, after the break up of his marriage. He was under no illusions that the relationship would last, but at 43 years of age he was thoroughly enjoying the unbridled sexual appetite of the teenager in the meantime. He was, as he readily admitted to himself, making hay while the sun shone! The main drawback was their rather cramped existence in the single room bed-sit on the second floor of what is delightfully known as a 'multiple-occupancy' house.

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Memory triggers. They come rushing at you when you least suspect them. You can walk into a house and take in the heady aroma of a cake being baked and you'll be transported back to your grandmother's kitchen. You can smell an empty beer bottle and suddenly there you are playing hide and seek behind a pile of your uncle's empties. Smell is our most powerful sense and we all have a repertoire of aromatic triggers nicely tucked away in that gluggy grey mass we call a brain.

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I grew up with one really good friend all of my life. Billy had been my best pal since we were in first grade. In fact most people thought that we were brothers. He and his parents lived a few blocks over, and since my older sister seemed to have control over what was happening at my house, I spend a majority of my free time at his. It got to the point where I didn't even have to knock to get in. Mrs. Blair would always leave the door that led into the downstairs rec room open for me. Mr. Blair really didn't approve of this, being away on business as much as he was, but Mrs. Blair seemed to enjoy my comings and goings.

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Here's another story for you guys that's been bouncing around inside my head for a while. Hope you enjoy. All characters are over the age of eighteen. Hi, my names Richard Williams, Rich to my friends. I live in southern California with my mom Stacy. My dad died when I was too young to remember. The accident that killed my dad, while tragic, was made less so by the size of the settlement his company paid my mom.

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I was watching a movie the other day, with academy award level acting by the way, where a housewife fucks the plumber when he came by to "fix" the pipes. It reminded me of a role playing situation, I found myself in quite unexpectedly one night. It involves me, a certain man of whom I had a very active sex life with (two guesses for my fans), and

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I had known Emily since she was a baby. I watched her grow from a young child to an exuberant teen and finally to a very sexy young adult. Yes she was half my age, and to be honest, when she was an 18-year-old gymnast, there were times that I had less than wholesome thoughts about her, but as every father thinking things like that about their kid's friends, I kept them well to myself. I suspect that as she grew into her early twenties, those full body hugs she gave me, the ones where she couldn't seem help but press her hips tight to mine, were an indication that she had picked up on those hidden desires.

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