Your erotic stories

My name is Nicholas Ichabous Crane Evanston. I'll spare you the long drawn out story of how I got that ridiculous name. The short version is that my dad saddled me with that long name so I would never forget the acronym, and always be NICE to people. Sometimes big stories have small beginnings, my story started at a CVS Pharmacy in a small town in North Carolina. I was in town to oversee a six month construction job and was having a pretty crappy day, so I dropped in for a sugar fix at the pharmacy near the work site.

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When I was younger my dad got me a summer job working on Saturdays for Mrs Jones. She was a woman who had a property out by the river and my job was to help her do landscaping, cut back trees, lay pavings etc. The property was a bit run down and it was hard work. Mrs Jones was a bit of a hippie. She lived alone and I guess she must have been divorced because she never wore a wedding ring, even though everyone called her Mrs Jones.

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This true story was written for mature women by a mature woman. I am willing to bet that there are many women out there just like me who are over 60 years old, divorced, widowed or single by choice that just don't think that they are sexually desirable any longer. I am here to tell you that is a lot of hooey. I know this because until my 62nd birthday I felt the same way.

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My eyes open hesitantly - struggling to adjust to the early morning sun filtering in through the bedroom curtains. I let out a small groan as I reached across the nightstand at the side of the bed in an effort to turn the alarm clock in my direction so that I could see what time it was. I froze in mid-reach when my mind finally processed the fact that I was completely naked and in somebody else's bedroom. It came rushing back to me in a hurry why nearly every muscle in my body was protesting with my every movement. I slowly turned my head, hoping that it had all been a fevered dream.

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CHAPTER 1 Twice divorced with continuing strong interest in working and male company, Lillian Smith, who'd once again reverted to her maiden name, made her seventh application for a new job and secured a position as personal assistant to the female operations manager of a courier company. The two women settled in together fine, both being the same age of fifty-two, and with similar interests except manager Marion had been married to the same man for twenty-seven years and had warned her new recruit she didn't talk about her husband or home life.

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I had sold a run-down house to Cory Tomas a few years ago. He is about forty-five, is a local truck driver, has a big beer belly, is a good poker player and seems to be a good father to his pre-teen kids when they stay with him every other weekend. Of course I also know his financial situation, but other than those things, I only know that he always seems to have a reasonably pretty, shy woman with him. Each one would stay a few months and then there would be a new one. One day he told me about the free Texas Hold'em tournaments at one of our local bars.

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Ramona got out of the shower and dried herself off, wrapping the towel securely around her curves... just yesterday she'd run into her father's friend Victor after her shower and she'd been so startled that she'd jumped and the towel had fallen to the floor. Although it now gave her a rush of excitement when she saw Victor - even though he was almost twenty-five years older than her 20 years and was very attractive - she didn't want to repeat the experiment. Especially because today her dad was home since it was the weekend.

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The man standing in the doorway gazed across the room to the woman lounging comfortably before him on the bed. Dressed in an ankle-length skirt and long-sleeved blouse, the woman tilted her head to the side and gave him a seductive smile. "I didn't think you would come, Darien," she commented with a smirk. "After all, it has been quite some time since you've seen me." The woman shifted on the bed, adjusting the skirt slightly to reveal more of her leg.

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The summer after my sophomore year of college began as a boring one. I was taking summer school classes to fulfill a few perspectives so that I could concentrate on my major courses during my last two years of school. I had a work-study job during my time in summer school so the rent wasn't a problem at the time, but once summer school was over it was different story. I had no classes to go to, no job, no friends to hang out with (everyone I knew went home and my roommates were both still in summer school and had jobs), and nothing to do that would fill that empty void—that is until one fateful day in early July.

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I was in Manila for business for 10 days, and had a lot to accomplish, but didn't know the local culture, or have many local contacts. Through an old school friend, I contacted the Chair of the Industrial Engineering Department of De La Salle University to get a recommendation for a highly professional student who could act as my local liaison for the week.

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