Your erotic stories

I flicked a speck of dust from the gleaming bonnet of my pride and joy, a British racing green blower Bentley just like the one that James Bond drove in the early Bond novels and the same car that starred in Fleming's other book Chitty, Chitty, Bang, Bang. It stood amongst over a thousand other gleaming and beautifully restored Vintage and Veteran vehicles that were about to take part in the Bi-annual Bay to Birdwood rally from West Beach to the National Motor Museum at Birdwood in the Adelaide hills.

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I enjoy young women; not that an older woman can't do things that are fantastic, but I just prefer them young. Matter of fact, the younger the better. Nothing under 18 mind you, but still 18 to 25 is my preference. Look at me and you might say, "Sure Pops, guess you would like something you can't get". Agreed, I am past my 45th birthday, but I still get my share. Sometimes it is the age that works the magic for the young ones. True, stamina is not my forte' and washboard abs are not mine to display.

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Joni Mitchell came out with an album named 'The Hissing of Summer Lawns' back in the middle seventies. I was wondering if it was available anymore, some are, some aren't. What even brought it to mind was my pulling off the thoroughfare and into my subdivision. Seemed like she summed it up pretty good, I reflected, as I drove past sprinklers gently arching their artificial rain onto picture perfect lawns. A landscaper was getting out weedeaters for a group of little brown men two doors down. They stood there patiently in the white hot mid day heat.

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Matt Simmons stood by Mrs. Hammond, holding her hand as her husband's coffin was lowered into its rain filled resting-place. Matt held her sobbing body close as the rain poured down on the crying mourners. He had been killed in a horrible car accident only 3 days ago. Matt could feel Mrs. Hammond's body shaking as he held her delicate, mature hand. Matt and Mrs. Hammond had always been very good friends and the last 3 days had brought them even closer.

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"So, Jack," asked Gillian, our HR Director. "What do you plan to do about Justin and Marge?" "What are my options?" I asked, as I thumbed through the open file spread out on my desk before me. "Disciplinary action, suspension, termination," she recited. "I guess it all depends on how far you want to take it. Termination could prompt legal action on their parts." "Yeah," I said, taking a deep breath. "But I don't like any of those. It seems too severe just because they got caught fooling around in the storeroom."

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My parents leased an old farm house belonging to a small estate as a summer house. I had spent all my summers there since being a kid. It was very nice although sometimes a bit lonely for a young boy. But the summer when I had turned 18 Thomas had moved to the estate with his parents. Although he was a year older we quickly made friends. We talked for hours of girls and sex and getting laid. He also had some porn magazines that we studied until they tore apart.

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About a year and a half so ago my wife Debra decided that I needed to get into better shape. Why wives do things like that beats me, hell it can't be to keep me able to work longer. I don't work at all. I guess it's just because she does love me, it can't be for my money. I don't have any of that, either. I did have money and stuff once, but things I had planned on having in my old age just never panned out.

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The rain continued to beat against the roof and the windows on the west side of the cabin. Paul sighed and rolled over. He didn't know what time it was, but it was still dark outside, so he figured it must still be early. He was muzzy from sleep, but awake enough to wonder what had disturbed him enough to waken him. Usually he slept right up until the alarm went off.

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I am an engineer, an entrepreneur and a businessman with considerable experience. By the tail end of the dot.com frenzy, I learned enough about business during that heady time to know that as soon as a small company is profitable, those profits turn into growth and growth turns into interest from large companies wanting to break into certain markets. That interest means they want to buy. The margins for small businesses aren't large in most cases, so people make real money by selling the company before it gets too large.

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So many times as a child, then a young man, I walked the few short miles down to the small hill. There was a tall chain link fence at the bottom of the hill, I could have climbed that but I never did. On the hillside was soft grass, the type that never gets really tall, and it is always green, even in dry periods. I never did know what kind of grass that was, at that very young stage of my life I never even thought of it.

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