Your erotic stories

Chapter One: New York City to Albany. The Port Authority Bus Terminal in New York City, circa 1971, was a very cold and sinister place to hang around, and I made it a point to spend as little time as possible there while waiting for my bus. I was 18 years old and alone, and while I had grown familiar enough with the city to navigate to and from my Aunt Elle's home in Queens, once I entered that dank and dismal bus terminal, I kept to myself as much as possible, and held onto my gym bag very tightly.

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Like I said, I was sitting at this slot machine, more or less blindly pushing the buttons and listening to it go "Clank clank clank." I like that one machine, it is 3 bucks a push of the button, it has the 5 times pay things and if I manage to get two of them it's 25 times pay which is a pretty good chunk of change if it ever pays off. The last reel respins, too, that is fun but the first two reels have to be lined up first.

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Retirement has many compensations! The opportunity to take holidays at any time I fancy is one I rate highly. This is the story about a recent enjoyable break. I recently spent Christmas away in a lovely city centre hotel in Bath in the English West Country. What a beautiful town, relaxing, full of history and incredibly photogenic! On Boxing Day I took my camera out to enjoy this photogenic place. When I returned to the warmth of the hotel I witnessed an unusual confrontation at the reception desk.

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"You're being silly. I'm old enough to be your mother." Says Willow with a sad smile. Stepping over to her I look down into her dark eyes. I pause for a second as I see those beautiful pools of hazel looking back at me. "And I'm old enough to know that's not old." I lean down to kiss her. For a half a second I think she might let me then her head turns and my lips brush her cheek.

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I guess it all began two months ago. The house next to mine had been on the market for about nine months before someone bought it. My mailman volunteered that the new owner was named Amber and she was young. That was about all he knew about her. For about six weeks there was a lot of construction going on over there and an endless stream of deliveries. Than it went quiet.

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A good friend of mine referred me to this great Italian restaurant in a city about 3 hours from where I lived. I asked him, "What the hell makes this place so special that I would be willing to drive 3 hours?" He told me the service was worth the trip alone, and the food was even better. I took some time to think it over and a few days later I called to make a reservation. The person on the phone asked my age, and if I preferred smoking, non-smoking, or the cigar lounge.

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Sara and Jon's first meeting was literally explosive. Sara had never felt such deep animalistic lust in all her life! They had met at a wedding. He was the groom's cousin and Sara was a friend of the bride's. Sara hadn't noticed him at the actual ceremony but later, at the reception when the party was in full swing. He had been standing chatting with a group a of people and the way he had thrown back his head and laughed at something someone said just caught her right in the stomach, the heart, the core – whatever! – It got her!

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The thumping bass sound announced the approach of Miguel's car long before Damon saw it come around the corner and pull up to the side of the basketball court. Damon took one last shot, banking the ball off the backboard and through the hoop before jogging over to the high chain link fence surrounding the court where Miguel's car sat on the other side. The passengers side window of Miguel's Camry slid down and Luke leaned out.

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The time was 1995 and the place was a sleepy suburb of Albany, New York. He was a bored man in his mid-40s whose wife had taken off with another guy, leaving him with a house he didn't want and a lot of time on his hands - until he started paying attention to the sights around him.

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“Christ, look at the tits on that!” he murmured to himself. They were indeed quite a pair, bulging out against the constraints of a cardigan that did little to hide their voluptuousness. She was obviously walking for fitness as she also wore sunglasses, a peaked cap, track suit pants and runners. She was well over 50 and grey hair tied in a pony tail hung to her shoulders. She was not slender and as she passed, he took in the size of her superstructure and the size of her rear. “Counter balanced,” he thought to himself.

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