Your erotic stories

"It's time, Annie," I told her. "We can't wait a second longer, because this baby won't." "But Dom," she answered. "The hospital is so far away, if the contractions slow down again, we'll be up there for nothing, and that snowstorm is coming. We could be stuck up there." "Yes!" I snapped. "This is a nasty storm, suppose we stay put, it hits, and then the baby comes. We'll be stuck here, 80 miles from help. It's time!"

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I was getting tired. The drone of the two Pratt & Whitney Wasp Jr. engines was hypnotically seductive. I was almost to my destination. I directed the air from a vent at my face. It was chilly and helped quite a bit. I blinked the sleep from my eyes and checked the GPS. Almost there. Time to be alert. I reached to the copilot seat and opened the cooler and got a icy wash cloth. I rubbed my face and eyes and felt lots better. I could see the lake ahead and pulled back on the throttles a bit and dropped the nose some.

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Kevin was grateful when his boss invited him home for dinner one Friday night. He had only been at the accounting firm for three months. He was fresh out of college and trying to fit in. George Jones, his boss, had built the company into one of the biggest firms in their town. Kevin was lucky to have landed there. He wasn't very social in college but in accounting that was okay. He minded his own business at work which was easy because of natural shyness and the general environment at the office.

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I dropped down under the shade of the tree next to Bill and Joe. "Has she been out yet?" "Ya don't see any laundry hangin' up do ya'?" Joe observed. "Good, I had to finish fixing the fence out back, I thought she might be done by now." Working on a cattle ranch in Montana in my youth did not offer many possibilities for sexual entertainment. We couldn't log in on the Internet and surf for porn sites, we had no soft core porn on the movie channels, and the nearest titty bar was some thousand miles from here.

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I'm a sixty year old retired widower with completely gray hair, a little paunch and live in a very nice three bedroom house in Wichita, Kansas. I drive the obligatory, for guys of my age, late model Mercury Grand Marquis. Everyone tells me I am a good-looking guy who has aged well. If I were trying to describe my interests I would only have to mention two. Travel and reading. I got away from buying the Book of the Month selections and now get most of my reading material from the nearby public library.

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I'm a 55 year old widow who still looks pretty good. My figure is 36C-24-36 and still pretty firm. I weigh 130lbs which is only ten pounds more than I did in high school and that ten pounds is muscle. My hair is dirty blonde which is just starting to turn gray. I'm pretty tall for a woman - 5' 10". The main reason I still look pretty good is I take a Pilates class every week on Mondays. I really enjoy it and it's keeping me looking good.

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I had a really shitty day. My secretary quit, to move to Texas with her new boyfriend. Somebody clipped my brand new Porsche in the parking garage, denting the hell out of the passenger side door and both fenders. One of my clients, the Avengers, tore up the hotel they were staying in. And Ozzie Schmuck, the drummer for Snakepit, got busted for coke and can't make the Australia tour.

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This wasn't the first time he'd seen her here at the supermarket. It was a few of weeks ago, on a Wednesday, that he first cast his eyes upon her mature, full figure and her fine head topped by billows of natural red hair. She was about 45, and her large hips and breasts where accented by a slim waist. She was a West Texas earth mother type, but with a hint of sadness. Since then, he'd made Wednesdays his regular shopping day in the faint hope that he might run into her again. And now, here she was in front of him.

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Chapter 1 Brad McGibbon was not coping well following his wife's decision to leave him to live in a warmer climate because her joints were playing up. Brad's were too, a bit. He thought Heather should have hips, knees and anywhere else that was painful replaced instead of sloping off to a warm climate where one sweated all day and perhaps half-froze at night. She chose Hawaii while he stayed put in Twin Forks on the John Dee River.

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I can describe beauty. It stands tall and slender at the rails of the boardwalk, allowing the sea breeze to dance with white hair glowing in the moonlight. It is elegance wrapped in a cream-colored mock turtleneck sweater and matching cashmere slacks. Beauty is a countenance of serenity, absorbing the power and wonder of creation knowing all share a common source.

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