Your erotic stories

It was just a few weeks before graduation, my daughter Tracy who had been a member of the cheerleading squad had come and asked my wife and me if she could have an overnight party with the girls on her squad as a sort of graduation, going away thingy since most of them probably wouldn't be seeing one another again after that. Already eighteen by then, and wanting to give her a little more freedom and trust since she too would be going away to school in a few months, my wife and I agreed to let her and her friends over to party and enjoy the pool, provided it didn't turn into some wild-assed party with a bunch of their boyfriends showing up and crashing it later.

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All characters in the story are over the age of eighteen. * When I walked into my parents' house, I saw my mom on the phone. Shit, this can't be good. She was staring right at me. "Okay Rhonda, he'll do it. Six okay? It is? Great." I slung my back pack down on the couch. "What?" I asked. I was cautious of everything this woman did.

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Cleo and I were both nurses in our late twenties employed at the local hospital. We had been seeing each other for almost a year when we worked the same shift we always took our evening meal together once the patients had settled down and our wards were quite. On an unusually balmy night in September we had arranged to meet on the flat roof of a disused hospital block to enjoy the warm night air, snatch a meal and a little quality time alone.

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It was the middle of the semester and since I didn't have very much work due, I decided to take a night off and go to a show that included a few of the singing groups on campus. I was meeting my friend Jessica there, but she always ran late, so I had to wait in the lounge for a while for her. I was pretty bored sitting by myself, and just watched people walking in and out of the lounge and into the auditorium. I didn't really give anyone a second look, I was just people-watching in general. Until this one girl walked in.

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"Hi Brian, what are you wearing right how?" The voice on the telephone was low and rough as if she wasn't quite awake. "Not much." He answered her, but couldn't figure out who she was. The voice sounded faintly familiar, but he was not sure he knew who it belonged to. Brian wasn't doing much. In fact, he was standing in the bedroom, wearing only a towel around his neck, trying to decide if he wanted to go to bed early, or pull on some sweats, fix a late supper, and then open his briefcase and read for a couple of hours.

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"Just take it," my best friend whispered in my ear before switching aisles. Like a pro, she pocketed a pack of gummy bears to go with a bag of chips. It stunned me that she could be so apathetic about the whole thing. Stealing? I'd never stolen anything in my life -- not even first base! Yet with nervous hands, I picked up a little baggie of Swedish fish, and looked towards the register. The man there was sitting with his feet up on the counter and his head down, staring into a home and gardening magazine.

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A week before Christmas, I ducked into the fifth floor men's room. It served as temporary reprieve. The first among twenty or thirty things I could invent to occupy myself while avoiding the remainder of the company Holiday party two floors below. One other occupant was in the room. He barely registered on my eggnog-addled brain. Most years I managed to escape the compulsory merrymaking by being unavoidably detained somewhere else on company business. This year I was unavoidably detained in Los Angeles.

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Jason stood on a rock overlooking a deserted beach beneath him. The cool sea breeze that sent an occasional whiff of salt up to him was a delightful refreshment under the glaring sun. He felt slightly dazed, uncertain if that was due to the heat, the amounts of red wine he had been drinking the night before, or ... he rubbed his eyes, incredulously.

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You've been coming over to the house for three weeks to cut the grass, always when I have been out shopping or away on other adventures. I had the misfortune every tine to miss you by just a few minutes, until last week. The Jeep my son had bought you was sitting in the drive way when I got home, grass had been freshly mowed, but I didn't see you around anywhere.

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I sat on the couch staring into the fire and feeling very content. A light snow was falling outside, making the small house feel even cozier. The only light in the room came from the flickering flames. It was a perfectly comfortable evening, one that I wished could last forever. And at this moment, in my mind, I knew it would.

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