Your erotic stories

"Don't think I haven't noticed how Jack looks at my tits when he doesn't think I'm looking at him," Janice told Marie. "Yeah, he's a boob man, can't help it," Marie answered. "Doesn't it bother you?" said Janice, "If he looks at my boobs you know he's gotta check others out too." "Nope, I trust him," said Marie, "When I catch him checking another woman out he always reminds me that he may be on a diet but that doesn't stop him from reading the menu. Besides, we've talked about doing a threesome some day."

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Jill walked in, still in her work clothes. She wore a blue dress shirt and dark gray skirt. Her outfit was conservative but showed off her curves nicely. She spotted me and came over. I noticed a guy at the far end of the bar watching her. I didn't blame him. It was hard to ignore Jill. She's tall and slender attracts a lot of attention with her high heels and assertive aura.

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It had become the highlight of my day, sitting out on the bench in front of the apartment complex I called home, waiting for the school bus to drop the students off. This gives you an idea of how exciting retirement was for me, but at 65 you take your thrills anyway you can. Each day at 3:35 or so, the Catholic school girls go by, dressed in identical outfits that were as stereotypical as they come.

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Some people like to be the boss, but Nancy Saddler wasn't one of them. She loved the pay, of course, and the respect, and the status. But she hated hurting people. Managing meant she had to make decisions when competing projects needed the same budget. It made her choose between different ideas of how to approach a client.

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"You don't think it's a big deal that you fucked your own brother?" was all Sarah's mother could say. The moment the sentence left her mouth, she realized how absurd it was. Sarah rolled her eyes, "It wasn't like that! They were just hookups. We followed the rules. It is NOT a big deal!"

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My name's Jack, I'm forty-eight years old. I have been happily married for twenty years and we have two wonderful children. My wife and I have had fantastic sex since the very first time we met. Joan has a great body and is a wonderful lover. I think we have both matured quite nicely together and as a couple, especially when we look around us.

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It had been an amazing weekend so far. The secretary at the radio station where I work is a Mexican babe that I've wanted to fuck since I started working there. When I discovered she was embezzling from the company, bingo! I'd found my way in. The past week has been non-stop sex. Joann hated being my whore at first, but now she loves it. She still doesn't really admit it, but trust me, she can't get enough.

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"Three thousand dollars for a transmission! that's ridiculous and besides it wasn't my fault that piece of junk broke when I was driving it" Keri exclaimed exasperatedly. I replied "piece of junk or not. it's my car, you weren't supposed to be driving it and from what the mechanic said you were not exactly babying it when it broke. You busted it and you're responsible for getting it fixed."

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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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Night never falls quickly enough on New Orleans. Interesting by day, certainly, but darkness brings the true city to life. The barkers and harkers, bodegos and cafes. The places seeking merely to move money -- from your pocket to theirs. And oh the promises. This night will bring something else to the city of cadence and creole. She feels, rather than hears, the calls for attention ringing and melting together in her ears as she stands looking out her window.

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