Your erotic stories

Though he was twenty six years old Charlie still lived with his divorced mother; in her basement in fact, because he couldn't afford a place of his own. Charlie wanted to move out and get an apartment or perhaps rent a townhouse, but with his meager salary his prospects were not good.

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An unexpected package in the post is always a pleasure, and this was no exception. Although if Jessica had foreseen the events that would unfold, she may have been less excited when she noticed, upon her return from work, the box left outside her door. She scooped it up with the other post and then placed it on the table while she changed and poured a glass of wine.

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What a day! Partly cloudy and in the low-80's, a perfect day for doing some repairs on my boat. Warm enough to wear cutoffs and a tee-shirt, cloudy enough to avoid getting the inevitable burn that precedes my mid-summer tan. I have the good fortune to own a house and dock on a beautiful lake, courtesy of a very generous lawsuit settlement. At age 48, I'm semi-retired. Now, instead of putting bad guys in jail, I'm a self-employed writer and photographer working out of my lakefront home.

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"To be honest, just lately I've been fantasizing of being with a man, but... I couldn't..." I confessed to his question about my sexuality.

"I'm sure you're going to like it, because you remind me of how I used to feel" he said reaching out to put his hand over mine. Squeezing it gently, he looked into my eyes and smiled as his head moved closer towards me, and kissed me. Pulling away he stood up and led me into his bedroom.

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Maggie Buchanan sped down Route 7 south of Lenox, the sun hovering just above the Berkshire hills, a simmering coral glow spreading through the summer sky. The old Mustang convertible, fire-orange like the sun, raced recklessly towards dusk. Maggie felt herself leaning into the corners with her old car, taking them too fast, as usual. She always drove too fast in this car. She couldn't help herself.

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Dear Jane, Thanks a lot for your letter. I really enjoyed reading it. It sounds as if we're on pretty much the same wavelength and I'm glad we're going to be writing to each other, so I guess it's up to me now to start things going. You mentioned you like going to bed with good-looking women. Me too, so I think I'm going to start off by telling you about the first time it ever happened to me.

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Pity me, the poor orphan! My mother gave me up for adoption when she was 17, and I was that many minutes old. I grew up with Mom and Pop Hadley on a quiet, tree-lined street in a quiet, little town in upstate New York. Good home cooking. Lots of love. And, to be honest, almost zero questions about my birth mom.

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"Baby Girl you're fine," he said confidently as he danced beside me with my sexy wife. I was used to her getting hit on, especially by black men. She had a beautiful round ass and a trim waist that drew admiring looks wherever we went and it attracted black men to her like a moth to a flame. But I wasn't used to the man being so blatantly aggressive with her when I was within ear shot and my blood began to boil.

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Yesterday. Oh for the Gods yesterday. The drive down there was so intense once again. My foot sensing my desire and anticipation easing its way towards the floor again and again. My mind struggling with these same desires forcing my foot to lift time and time again. Control is all at these times, and yet it is so hard to get a hold of when it is pure anticipation.

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Like David Copperfield, I want to start at the beginning, as "I was born ....". So you'll understand how I came to be the person that I, Sonia Barron, nee Sonia de Beaumanoir, am now. In the beginning, I was born on the beautiful island of St. Martin in the eastern Caribbean. My father's parents immigrated before WWII from France and my father was born there as well.

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