Your erotic stories

I'm scared, I've been scared in the past so I know scared. Forty something years ago I was a part-time rally driver, back before World Rally Championships in pocket rockets with their roll cages and radio contact to their teams and the myriad safety features designed to protect the drivers, I drove what was little more than a standard road car with knobbly tyres at high speeds through twisty fire trails that wound their way through dense bushland with an equally scared navigator yelling the course notes to me. Believe me that was scary.

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Adam hadn't seen Mrs. Ford in a couple of weeks although the memory of the late evening they had spent in her back yard was still vivid in his mind. He had agonized over whether or not he should get in touch with her. He thought of calling her and asking if she needed someone to clean her pool, but then he would cringe at the sexual overtones that were so obvious in such an offer. Ultimately he decided that it was unlikely that his mother's best friend would want him calling her up like some moon struck teenager which was, in fact, pretty much what he was.

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The start of her first real affair After dropping Tom off at the airport, she spent the rest of the morning sorting out what she was going to wear. She realised she hadn't been so excited about going out for years. She had the butterflies in her tummy which she had got as a teenager when she was going out on a first date with someone she had really fancied.

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'Where's my mom?' Jennie asked Mike. Mike opened his eyes groggily and rolled over to see who had disturbed him. He looked in the general direction he'd heard the voice from and tried hard to focus. It was no good. He blinked once and tried again; still no good. With an effort he sat up in bed and put his hands to his face. He vigorously rubbed his hands over his eyes and then blinked a couple of more times. He looked to the side of the bed once more and then saw Jennie.

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College classes are bad enough without falling behind. Between the sheer volume of classes and my work obligations that barely covered my living expenses, it was inevitable that something would give. Biology became the threatened species of my class load. Mrs. Gail Hannity was my Biology instructor. Smart, precise, and really quite beautiful, it was entirely possible that she was a major contributor to my in-class distraction.

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Chapter One: Bored and alone. It was Saturday night and it was getting late. I had watched COPS for an hour, having gotten my weekly dose of schadenfreude from watching people with lives even more miserable than my own have theirs go down the tube in front of the whole country, and now I was sitting in front of the computer finishing my final beer of the evening. I wasn't looking for anything in particular, but was just skipping around from site to site, hoping to make my eyes tired enough so that sleep would come easier for me.

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So there I was - fifty-two years old and planning to commit adultery for the first time in my life. I'd been married to the same woman for thirty years, and never been unfaithful. I'd negotiated my way through the modern world, seemingly made up of human beings obsessed with sex, and managed to avoid that one mortal sin at least. But tonight was going to be different. Tonight I was going to going to cast myself into the pit of lust, treachery, and deceit.

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Walter met Marjorie, the mother of basketball player Doug Slade, at Doug's graduation party. After an inebriated mutual seduction, they ended up in bed until morning. The relationship progressed and at the end of chapter five, Walter asked Marjorie to marry him. I apologize that this took so long but my flash drive disappeared - and thank you to those who encouraged me and requested this not knowing it was in work.

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I had just finished my freshman year of college, having somehow existed through months of frustration. My grades were excellent but my sex life was a failure. With hormones pumping throughout my body at breakneck speed, and a goodly amount of attractive girls running around campus suffering with the same condition, one would have thought that I would have connected with at least one member of the opposite sex. Alas, it did not come to pass. I was heading home without any good stories to tell to my old high school buddies and especially my best friend, George Simmons.

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Or so Annabelle thought as she sat in front of the computer, a pile of paperwork at her left, another of unanswered mail at her right. Because while all her friends were at the beach or by a pool enjoying their summer before going away to college, Annabelle was stuck in a law firm, working nine to five and missing on all the fun. Sure, the money was good and the job wasn't too bad, but still, she would love to be out there having fun with all the other people her age.

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