Your erotic stories

Mandi’s headlights served almost no usefulness in the snowstorm. It would take her an hour to get home down the winding 2 lane highway creeping along at 35 miles an hour. She bristled as she thought of the horrible day she had at work, almost half the staff had called in due to the weather and she lived further than all but Joan and had much worse roads to travel on. She had to fill in for Stewart in sales and had actually made a sale to a new customer from Nashville. She didn’t like sales much but as inventory manager and purchasing agent she knew the product line better than anyone who had made the attempt to get into the office.

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There was just something about my girlfriends mom that I couldn't put my finger on. If I was honest with myself I would say that I had secretly fancied her since the first time I met her and this feeling had only grown with time. Although her daughter was a great girl I had always had a long held fantasy about older women and wished that someday it could be fulfilled.

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Not a soul in the long hallways of the University on a Saturday afternoon. I was trying to figure out where this office area had been. I opened doors on the sides, and found one leading to a cluster of offices which could have been the right place. I was probably going further than I should have, when I heard a voice behind me.

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The sound of crickets and cicadas sounded loud in the dark of the woods. An owl hooted and somewhere in the distance, a deer crashed through the bush. It was just past nightfall and Joshua Gardner was on his way home from his grandfather's farm after helping bale and put up hay. He was sweaty and itchy from the grass and hauling bales up into the old barn loft.

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It was a Saturday, and I had the house to myself. As my girls went through their teen years, the house was always full of their friends. We had an open door policy and their friends, girls and guys alike, would frequently walk in unannounced. We pretty much got used to it, and now that my last one was gone to college it seemed like the house was always quiet. To make things worse, my wife was out of town shopping for the day with a friend, leaving me to my own devices.

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CHAPTER 1 Early morning sun cut through the mist as lean and white-haired Bill Soper rubbed under an armpit and once again thought will he or won't he? On six consecutive mornings the fit-looking 70-year old had looked impassively at the boatshed on the edge of the estuary and returned inside his cottage that he no longer shared with his wife.

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"Hey Mom, why don't you get Brian to drop you by Aunt Mary's? He'll be driving right by." I hit the leg on her chair as I tried and missed in my attempt to put a knot on my usually sweet and wonderful wife's leg. I had just been discussing my hunting trip to the Black Hills of South Dakota with my brother-in-law, Mark, when my wife blurted out the unexpected invitation. What is she thinking? I asked myself. "Note to self never mention trips in front of the wife again!" I quietly reminded myself.

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You are finally coming into town. You said for business, but I don't care what the reason, I am just glad to finally see you. I race to meet you at the restaurant. There are butterflies in my stomach. We have chatted and talked on the phone for so long now. So much flirting and longing to be with you. When I arrive at the restaurant, I see your truck is already there, and I start to feel a little better. When I get inside, I scan the room for you, and see you stand up and motion me over to your table. You've been keeping an eye out for me and you smile as I get close to the table.

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Although she wasn't expected till 5:30 in the evening when Mom would be home from work, Marsha, the caterer, showed up at 11 A.M. sharp. I explained over the intercom that I couldn't help her with the menu, but she insisted on coming upstairs to see the condo. I told her I'd leave the apartment door open and for her to wait in the living-room while I put on some clothes.

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Early in the morning of August 21, 1863 William Clarke Quantrell and his band of Missouri ruffians sacked and burned the city of Lawrence, Kansas and changed my life forever. Amost all of the city was destroyed including the Lawrence Journal newspaper, where I worked, and the Eldridge House Hotel, where I lived. Fortunately I was in Topeka on that day, covering the newly-formed and very contentious Kansas Legislature.

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