Your erotic stories

Misty lie in bed, her hand between her long legs with two of her fingers deep in her steaming pussy. She moved them in and out as fast as she could go. Her other hand toyed with her firm breasts and nipples. She needed to cum so bad every inch of her body was on fire. She had only been with one man in her young life and he didn't know the first thing about pleasing a girl. "Please, cum!" she moaned as her hand began to tire. She'd been fingering herself for close to an hour with no sign on an orgasm.

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I stood there in the hallway, staring at the door. The rest of the hall was empty, and I could hear my heart pounding as though it was trying to leap out of my chest. When I reached up to knock, my hand was shaking. The voice from within the room did nothing to ease my anxiety. "Juste un instant, s'il vous plait ", melodically reached my ears. Well, we were in Quebec, and she was my french teacher, so.... perhaps I should fill in some history leading up to this moment.

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I prefer older women. Or to be politically correct, "mature" women. I'll take a "mature" woman in her 40s or 50s any day over someone who is younger. Why? My experience has been that mature women are more comfortable with their bodies. They are more open to receiving and giving sexual pleasure and are more open to sexually adventuresome activities like lots of oral, role playing, anal, and if you are lucky, you can find a mature women that is open to threesomes and more, if you know what I mean.

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Before I start I should really tell you a bit about our village. If you are used to planned gridiron building then our village will be a shock to you. People have lived here and hereabouts for at least a couple of thousand years. There was a Roman camp nearby, and there are carvings in rocks that are much older than that. What I am saying is that the village was not organised, it had just happened. Most people only see it from the main road, lined as it is with shops, houses and a couple of pubs.

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I have a secret that I've never told anyone, not even my husband who knows everything about me. The events of a summer night, after I turned 18 and graduated from high school, that changed my life and contributed to who I am today. I learned a lot of things from my mother that summer, some of which she didn't intend to teach me.

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"Freefall," Rebecca Quinn thought to herself as the elevator lowered her and her Husband down to the lobby of her office building so they could go have lunch together. "Freefall...That's just what my life feels like right now," she had to stifle a perverse chuckle at the irony of the comparison between the elevator and her place in life. Rebecca had been married to Neal Quinn for almost 22 years. The first dozen or so had been decent, but there was no mistake the two had drifted apart for the last decade and Rebecca had been having an affair on and off with a man from her office building for past year.

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Los Angeles, California, 1992 It's ironic that LA is known as the City of Angels. Work the streets and you see there is nothing angelic about it. It's a Gemini; the LA that tourists love, and the LA that cops know. Now Detective Bobby Morgan, a fifteen year vet, worked with seven other officers in the NGH Unit, working cases with three consistent elements; narcotics, gangs and homicide.

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'Knock...knock...knock'. Melanie put her book down and answered the front door. "Hi...Mrs. Barton," the good looking teenager asked, "Is Warren in?" "Ehm no," she smiled when she recognised her son's best-friend Lee Clark or Clarkie as he was known to his friends, "he's at work but shouldn't be long; do you want to come in and wait?" "Yeh thanks." He mumbled and wiped his trainers on the door mat as he followed the slim woman into the living room.

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Although I am only a high school graduate and almost all schools require a college degree, I consider myself to be as much a teacher as those in regular school classrooms. I also enjoy my teaching much more than most of the school teachers I have known. My husband approves of my teaching, I have been doing it for the past ten years, and helps select my students. I have had a total of thirty four of them, most for periods lasting from one to three months. I started when I was thirty seven and I plan to continue as long as I am able to find students.

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It was eight o'clock in the morning as I puttered around in the kitchen. The sun was already up and it promised to be another beautiful August day. But, this wasn't just any day. Today was our twenty-eighth wedding anniversary. Could that possibly be true? Just thinking about the number made me shake my head in wonder. I still thought of myself in the same way that I always had. However, a quick glance in the mirror was more than enough to remind me that I no longer resembled that young, thin twenty year old that had walked down that aisle so long ago.

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