Your erotic stories

It was a Christmas for the record books. Twenty-four inches of snow, travel down to a crawl, and flights down to a minimum because of terrorism fears. This was the first year I'd been away from my large extended family. This year, it was just dinner at the house with my husband and his father, who lived in town. It was nice, though. Controllable. And my house was cozy, well-decorated, and warm. A fine dinner, a bottle (or three) of fine wine, a twinkling tree, and a blazing fire had all worked together to make a textbook Christmas night.

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September 2003 "Ya got ten bucks Mister?" she asked as she darted in front of me, one of a small group of black clad, pierced and tattooed punkers who'd mysteriously appeared in the neighborhood just days earlier. "Ten bucks? What happened to the fifty cents for squeegeeing my windshield?" I asked with a grin. "Fifty-cents! A rich, hip Miami guy like you," she teased, jiving me as she danced backward as I continued walking.

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I hadn't seen Linda since she and my daughter, Shellie had graduated from high school over four years ago. They had been best friends but had gone to different colleges. They had kept track of each other through email and the phone. I kept track of Linda by accident through chance meetings with her mother. Linda's mother and I would talk and update each other as to our daughter's comings and goings over those four years. In my mind, I still pictured Linda as I last saw her at the High School graduation.

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I haven't always been like this. There was a time, as a younger woman, when I moved through the day without noticing everyone I encountered with the same eye for elements as I do now. Back then, a face was not a porthole to the inside world of men and women. The posture and carriage of a body did not reveal the food consumed, emotional baggage lugged, and the psycho/sexual energy of a personality. However, somewhere along the way, I developed these insights into people that left me feeling somewhat of a self-fulfilling prophet.

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P.J. was feeling good, had an extra spring in her step and glimmer in her eyes. Being in the country always made her feel both thankful and alive. The early afternoon sunlight warmed her arms and legs, bared to it by the sleeveless, form-fitting t-shirt and shorts. Although she felt great, she considered that the next few days might be like watching paint dry. Being out here in the middle of the East Texas pineywoods babysitting a crew of redneck water-well-drillers could possibly be boring beyond description.

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Jack heaved the heavy basket of groceries on to the handlebars of his bike and set off on his delivery run. This was the last of his deliveries this afternoon. Mrs. Kelly's large family ensured that her delivery would always be the largest and the heaviest. He liked going to her place and left it to last so he could linger and talk. Mrs. Kelly was a big jolly woman. "I am sixteen stone," she told him one afternoon when he helped her up the stairs.

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Chapter I She sat; butt tucked in the corner of the armrest and the back of the sofa, eyes wide and prepared for our discussion. Being it was almost bedtime she was attired as usual in a crotch length T-shirt little wispy panties and no bra. Amanda was just 20 days short of being eighteen but still somewhat mentally adolescent for a girl that age.

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At first, she was just a customer in the store, albeit a pretty one. Blonde, blue eyed, with a curvy body, she projected an attractive aura, and her youthful flirtiness just added to her charm. He was only a couple years out of college, an assistant manager, someone who handled both the difficult and special customers. He earned a good reputation with customers, his combination of boyish enthusiasm, surprising knowledge, and attention to their needs contributing to building a loyal customer base.

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"Atkins, can you spare one of those peach-colored roses for me today?" I looked up at Mrs. Deershorn sticking her head out the window above me. The sweet old lady was about 65 and lived in the floor above me in this small apartment complex. I had moved in about 4 months earlier after a bad breakup with my longtime girlfriend. One of the reasons I took this room was the availability of a garden out my back patio. I had always loved gardening and in my mixed-up emotional state it was great solace.

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I was smiling as I looked down at this beautiful thirty five year old creamy smooth ass. I was enjoying this nice tight pussy doggie style. Watching my cock going in and out of it was very exciting. This was my first older lady and it was great. Not bad for an eighteen year old guy. Besides Mrs. Black was one of the most beautiful ladies in our town.

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