Your erotic stories

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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The young man beside her was silent, lost in his own morose thoughts. Ginny concentrated on the icy highway in front of them, a hint of apprehension gripping her as they approached the Eisenhower Tunnel. Even though she had lived in the Rockies for sixteen years and made the drive from Vail to Denver weekly, this particular stretch of Interstate 70, approaching the Continental Divide, never failed to frighten her. Once more she wished she'd brought her husband's four-wheel drive, if only because it sat up higher and gave a better view.

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There are limitations and opportunities connected to being an attractive older woman. The attractive men my age are generally interested in women half my age. Men half my age are attracted to me, but they're so immature and inexperienced. Sure, a youngster who gets off quickly and gets up again very quickly is great. But an older man who takes his time is usually far more exciting. What's a woman to do?

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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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Patterson Daniels was one of those quiet guys who managed to seem cool even if you didn't know him all that well. Decent grades. Pretty good jump shot. He wasn't going to be the loudest guy in the frat house, but he'd crack you up with a one-liner when you least expected it. He helped me change a tire in the dorm parking lot once.

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"Really, Sidonie," I said. "I didn't come to New Orleans just so I could help you keep your kinfolk in order!" My friend from college days grinned at me, lifting a rake through her big chestnut hair. Gavin, her husband, sat on the bed patiently channel-surfing while she finished getting gussied up for their evening out on the town. She was dressed in a red satin shirt, black leather pants and Doc Martens, and Gavin was equally street- and party-ready, although far less dramatic, in chinos and a polo shirt.

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So here it was, Thanksgiving Day, and I found myself in a strange man's bathroom, with my pantyhose pulled down around my knees, my dress hiked up over my hips, and that strange man's cock sliding in and out of my pussy. Well, in truth, he wasn't a complete stranger ... he was my boyfriend's father and I had met him two hours prior. But I'm getting ahead of myself, let me start at the beginning.

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I focused on the backs of her legs and turned the little wheel of the binoculars with my thumb to sharpen the image. She was bending over one of her pots and pinching something on a plant to remove it. Her dress was riding higher and I glimpsed an extra three inches of white thigh. As she attempted to stand erect she put both hands behind her back and straightened with an effort.

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"Please, come in." Candice smiled, she opened the door wide stepping back to let the men into her house. "How long do you think this is going to take?" she asked politely. "Maybe a few days, but it shouldn't really be more than two." One of them replied, smiling. She looked at his crisp, navy work shirt, it said 'Bud'. He was quite handsome, maybe in his late thirties.

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“You have a two o’clock meeting with the regional developer’s association. There’s the briefing on the smart growth legislation they’re interested in,” Cathy informed me as I slowly flipped through the contents of my inbox, which always seemed overwhelmingly full on each of my visits back to my district. “I’m assuming they’re against it,” I sarcastically replied.

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