Your erotic stories

"Jessica... so good to see you again." Harry took her hand and helped her out of the car, leaning down to press a warm kiss to her cheek. He inhaled her sweet fragrance, lilies of the valley. His wife had planted them all around the foundation of their house when they married. Elise was gone but the flowers continued to bloom every year, just when it was time to start opening the windows.

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I was at university at the time, and like all students I was finding money very hard to come by, not having rich parents, and not getting along with my mother. She had wanted me to marry this nice lad, but he wasn't for me. I was doing media studies, public relations, and arts. I thought I had the looks to get on in those fields. I had done some modelling when I was a bit younger, so I thought I might be able to get into that.

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Several months ago I turned 32 and bought my first co-op apartment. My immediate neighbor is a divorcee, in her late 40s, and she's got definite sex appeal. Yeah, she's older, but she's aged well. Mind you, she's not a hottie like some twenty year-old. But she doesn't have a stupid tongue piercing or a tattoo on her lower backside. Her tits aren't exactly perky anymore, but they are real and can still easily command a man's attention. I would guess they are C cups. For the sake of the story, I'll call her Linda.

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"19 year old man, tall and athletic, looking for no-strings sex with horny, plump women in their forties and fifties. I love to eat pussy and fuck, and I will put my tongue or my cock any place you want me to. Safe sex only." The profile on the internet sex site was signed "Studmuffin19", and had been placed by a man who lived in the same medium-sized city as Audrey. She was glad he hadn't used any silly abbreviations, since members of the site were permitted to place profiles, including descriptions of themselves and of their sexual preferences, with almost no limitations regarding length.

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It was a few days before spring break in my senior year of high school, when I first saw Monica as a sexy lady. She was about 40 years old, and always had a very sweet smile on her light, skinned face. She had, short brown hair with streaks of blonde running through it. Most times, a very big smile and a little sparkle in her eye for me. Being a dumb shit 18 teen year old high school guy with hormones going wild for my fellow female students. I never really noticed.

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Take me there and I will cum. A bawdy tale by Cat All the time we'd been chatting on messenger I'd insisted there would be nothing more. Despite the incredible intimacy of our chats I stressed that I'd never go further. Although we had the most amazing electronic sex where you would sometimes make me cum three and even four times I'd told you I was scared to talk to you or meet you.

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At twenty six, I had worked in the maintenance department of the office building for something like eight years. It was a go nowhere kind of job, but no one really bothered me, and I was more or less my own boss. The tenants of the building ranged from travel agents, to wholesalers, and even one attorney. None of which were very interesting people as far as I was concerned.

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One Saturday afternoon in September 2004, Dan was lying on his couch watching college football when his phone rang. A friend of his from work was on the other end. "Dan, this is Scott, what's up?" "Just watching the end of the USC game. What are you doing?" "I've been in the office all day and need to meet Lauren for dinner at 8 or so. Wanna grab a few drinks with me before." "Mmm, sure. I'm supposed to meet a few friends later. Mind if I have 'em meet us?"

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The full moon sent beams of light down through the trees to light my way. Here high in the mountains at night the air gets real cool and is a refreshing after the heat of the city. My weekends are my only keep from going fucking nuts. However this weekend I have added a slight change to my routine. I asked my aging secretary to join me. I say aging because she is older than me by twenty years.

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Ted cruised slowly through his old neighborhood. Much had changed, but the Carmichael house still stood. He smiled, remembering the Carmichael girls, Cynthia, and Ann. Cynthia was his age, Ann four years younger. He’d worshipped Cynthia, but he lived in a ramshackle farmhouse across the creek, while they were well-to-do. Her father disapproved of him, and he was shy, so he’d worshipped at a distance.

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