Your erotic stories

After Winnie's mom found her way back to Marcus' house, they went almost another five minutes before she was cumming again. He asked her to stay the entire weekend, but not before a quick trip home to pick up the essentials...and by essentials; she meant slutty clothes to be fucked in. Marcus even followed her home to make sure she came back with at least a different outfit for him to fuck her in each day and night, because it would be asinine to let her wear the same stockings three days in a row.

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I finished loading box #35. Who would believe the amount of crap you can collect over twenty five years? Well, really thirty two but twenty five in this house. Some of it easy to toss. Some of it not so much. Memories. Man, they stack up. Just like the boxes lining the garage. But, life has changed. I mean really changed. Thirty two years of marriage gone in less than a year of a tragic, terrible diagnoses followed by non-helpful, non-curing, painful chemotherapy and then – she was gone.

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It's funny, how as a kid you tend to see things so totally different from the reality in which they are. Only when you're confronted with those same memories years later do you really understand the misconceptions we all place on them. It was how I remembered Mabel, though back then as a kid, we all teasingly called her, Maybelline. Growing up right next door as a child, I very often made a little extra money back then doing odd jobs such as pulling weeds or mowing the lawn for Mabel and her husband, "Old man Jack" as we had likewise labeled him.

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"Buy me a drink sailor?" Blearily I swiveled my head towards the sound and tried to focus my eyes to see who was addressing me. The barmaid who stood by the table finally came into focus. She was short, perhaps 5'2," blond, and what I'd once heard described as "healthy" by a good old boy from Texas. She was what would now be called a BBW, not overly fat, but pleasingly plump and pretty to boot with sky blue eyes.

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I didn't like Carl when I met him. I liked him even less when I realized what he was up to. The place was an upscale bar in a big city. It doesn't really matter where. It could have been anywhere. It could have been in your hometown. You know the kind of bar I'm talking about. Lots of wood, a friendly but quiet bartender, maybe a little jazz trio on some nights. It was the sort of watering hole businessmen and vacationers stop in after a day's selling, conferences or touring. A nice place.

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He wrapped his fingers around hers. The touch was firm but gentle, and it sent a jolt up her arm. Visions from the previous night flooded into her mind. She could almost feel his hands moving across her skin, and she shivered at the memory. Her breathing deepened as she got lost in the images in her mind. "Rebecca? Are you okay?" He was looking at her, his eyebrows slightly raised in concern.

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As the pontoons of the seaplane separated from the calm waters of the small harbor, two sentences of Uncle Frank's parting conversation echoed through my head - "Are you sure?" and "See you in a month." All of a sudden I felt more alone than I'd ever felt before. A tear rolled down the side of my nose. I waved until I could no longer see the plane.

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I met Brian Carmichael in early July. I remember this because it was almost a week after my fifth birthday. I was in the driveway of our yard, playing with a Tonka dump truck and bulldozer that my Uncle Jake had bought me for my birthday. I looked up and saw a small black dog (a Labrador retriever, I later found out) run across our lawn. The dog wandered over to me, his tongue hanging out and his tail wagging.

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I've always wondered why older guys gravitate toward younger women, whenever they have the chance. Until I met Holly, I didn't realize that I, and the women that I've been with for the past 25 years, have changed, a lot. When you're 18, and you're dating other 18 year olds, you never really realize that bodies change as they age. Heck, the woman that you date and eventually marry, then spend the next few decades with is aging at the same pace that you are. The changes are subtle, but they occur.

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"I was sure you were going to get the manager's job at the bank's new branch over on Castle, Don. Maybe it's because you can't be spared from this branch." "No, Ted, I don't think I'll ever be given a manager's job." "I don't understand." "Let's take our coffees over to the corner table there and I'll see if I can explain it." We'd planned on just picking up coffees to go and to walk back to the bank and have our break in the staff break room. But I wasn't really in the mood to be back there. The announcement of the staffing of the new Castle branch had come an hour ago.

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