Your erotic stories

Alice couldn't believe her luck. She had anticipated circling around the mall for a while, in search of a parking space, but one had opened up right in front of her. It was right near the entrance to the department store she had planned on visiting. Better still, it was the first non-handicapped space from the door. Before anyone else could steal it, Alice pulled her car into the spot. The day was going better than she had expected, and Alice hoisted her pocketbook over her shoulder and headed inside.

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Unbelievable. I must be dreaming. There is no way that what just seemed to have happened, happened. Here I am sitting on a box in the basement of my store. I'm surrounded on three sides with old, unsold, Christmas merchandise waiting for the next holiday season. My pants are down around my ankles and my dick still standing semi-rigid. If you had asked me thirty minutes ago if this situation were possible, I would have laughed my ass off.

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CHAPTER 1 Marie smiled. Today was the first day warm enough to go swimming h in her new swimming pool and she was trying on her old bathing suit, She hadn't had time yet to go look for anew one. She was smiling because her diet had worked-- the bathing suit which and once fitted her tightly was now loose all over. The black one-piece was definitely destined for the trash. Maybe she'd even get a two-piece now.

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My dear sisters: I have been asked to give a history of my experience with Priapus, and my part in the revival of his ceremony. I trust that this account will not leave the walls of this sorority house. Here, as best I can recall and recount it, is the story. When I was in college in the early seventies, it was a very different environment than it is today. We were all so much more innocent than girls are now.

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There really isn't all that much to tell but once in a while something will happen to change that. Being a 59-year-old retired widower in a condominium full of widows, I am both well fed and well taken care of, sexually. (By the way, as you get older, there are a lot more single women than men and many of them are horny.)

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Waldo was the only child of Edna and Henry. After her husband died from working too hard, Waldo and Edna were alone. Doting mother and loving son, all they had were one another. Reminiscent of the movie Harold and Maude, if Harold was older by forty years, their story, but for the sex at the end between Harold and Maude, would matched Harold and Maude's story.

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Single again and with more time on my hands than commitments, I had decided to hit the open road for a while. I didn't pack an itinerary and only packed the clothes I thought I couldn't do without. After all, this trip would be atop my old Harley and there wasn't but so much room for stuff. In the past few years I'd come to live doing the things I want to do and like doing, which meant odd jobs, some consulting now and then, and lots more time to shoot outdoor images, something I'd not done in earnest since the film days of the 80's.

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An English summer sun gleamed on the mast of the old Cutty Sark as it lay forlornly in the dry docks at Greenwich. As I stared at it I wondered at the fate of those that sailed in her and called her home. The sound of a ship moving up the Thames River drew my attention and I wandered off toward the railing along the high walls of the riverbank.

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Linda Jones was in the grocery store picking up a few things when she saw her friend Lisa Miller and her son Tommy. Lisa was supposed to come over later in the afternoon with a few friends for bridge club. "Hi Linda," Lisa called out, waving at her in the produce aisle. "Tommy, you remember Mrs. Jones don't you? Be a good boy and say hello."

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Paula Reardon, hot and bothered, placed the box into the open boot of her Honda hatchback. Most of the furniture was on its way, the rest tomorrow, and the house was half empty, and rather ghostly, now. Tomorrow she'd be away from here. Away from the abrasive memories Brian the Bastard had left her. Set up and living with his French floozie, wasn't he?

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