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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Carol, my best friend and lover, was lying naked next to me with her head on my chest. I was stroking her face when she looked up at me and nuzzled her chin into my grey beard. She said " I liked that game we played this morning. When you let me mark the places on my body with honey that I wanted you to lick, that was very kind and thoughtful. Where did you learn to do that?"

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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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Memory triggers. They come rushing at you when you least suspect them. You can walk into a house and take in the heady aroma of a cake being baked and you'll be transported back to your grandmother's kitchen. You can smell an empty beer bottle and suddenly there you are playing hide and seek behind a pile of your uncle's empties. Smell is our most powerful sense and we all have a repertoire of aromatic triggers nicely tucked away in that gluggy grey mass we call a brain.

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I grew up with one really good friend all of my life. Billy had been my best pal since we were in first grade. In fact most people thought that we were brothers. He and his parents lived a few blocks over, and since my older sister seemed to have control over what was happening at my house, I spend a majority of my free time at his. It got to the point where I didn't even have to knock to get in. Mrs. Blair would always leave the door that led into the downstairs rec room open for me. Mr. Blair really didn't approve of this, being away on business as much as he was, but Mrs. Blair seemed to enjoy my comings and goings.

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Here's another story for you guys that's been bouncing around inside my head for a while. Hope you enjoy. All characters are over the age of eighteen. Hi, my names Richard Williams, Rich to my friends. I live in southern California with my mom Stacy. My dad died when I was too young to remember. The accident that killed my dad, while tragic, was made less so by the size of the settlement his company paid my mom.

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I was watching a movie the other day, with academy award level acting by the way, where a housewife fucks the plumber when he came by to "fix" the pipes. It reminded me of a role playing situation, I found myself in quite unexpectedly one night. It involves me, a certain man of whom I had a very active sex life with (two guesses for my fans), and

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I had known Emily since she was a baby. I watched her grow from a young child to an exuberant teen and finally to a very sexy young adult. Yes she was half my age, and to be honest, when she was an 18-year-old gymnast, there were times that I had less than wholesome thoughts about her, but as every father thinking things like that about their kid's friends, I kept them well to myself. I suspect that as she grew into her early twenties, those full body hugs she gave me, the ones where she couldn't seem help but press her hips tight to mine, were an indication that she had picked up on those hidden desires.

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"How'd you like to get hold of that?" Roger Goins asked as he stirred his fresh drink. Roger was one of those guys who always talked about strange pussy, but never seemed to make an attempt to get any. He was too pussy-whipped by his wife, Elaine, to take a chance. Me, I was on the look out all the time—but so was my wife, Shirley. It took about fifty years and four marriages for me to learn that a woman who liked to fuck all the time—the only kind I wanted to be married to—was going to fuck somebody else every now and then.

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I had always wondered what it would be like to make love to an older, more experienced man for as long as I could remember. Well, one wild spring night, my fantasy came to life, and I haven't been able to stop thinking about it since.... I am an English teacher in a middle school, and I pretty much love every aspect of my job. Writing and literature have been my passions for as long as I can remember. I began my teaching career as a substitute and gradually made my way to having my own classroom just three years ago, but it seems like I've been doing this forever.

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