Your erotic stories

Part 1 After a long but uneventful flight, I arrived at the downtown Marriott in Austin, Texas, to find a spacious and comfortable room with a good view of the city. The first night I ordered dinner from the room service menu, which I was pleasantly surprised to find included southwestern cuisine, flavors that I love and don’t often have a chance to enjoy.

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I always knew of the man who lived in the house at the end of the dead end street as the Creeper. His real name was Mr. Manson, and I thought that his first name was Barry or Barney or something like that. The word around the school was that he liked boys, and from the time I was in elementary school, to the time I was a senior in high school, I was warned by other kids to stay away from his house.

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She sat sullenly outside his office, kicking at the leg of the chair with the heel of her black loafer. She knew this was it. She was going to get expelled for sure, and there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it. She silently cursed her rotten luck. Just then the door opened. "He'll see you now," the voice said She looked up and saw the short, middle aged woman with soft gray hair smiling sympathetically at her and stood up to face her fate.

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The day of The Dance finally came. Actually, come to think of it, it was not a dance at all! It was just a huge party that was held annually at one of the mansions in the neighborhood and everyone was invited to it. Nobody knows when the exact date of The Dance was. Hell, none of us knew who the organizers were because the mansion where The Dance was held had no records of any owners, dead or alive.

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A soft warm breeze teases her body. The fragrance of flowers embraced by the wind teases her senses. A gentle summer sun holds her firmly, warming her. Her mind slowly wakens as the generous mother cradles her body. She is still drifting in and out, not quite knowing if this is a dream or reality. Flashes of memory whisper through her body and haut her soul, tempting her body to embrace them. The fingers of the wind dance over her skin causing the tingling waves of goose bumps to flow up her leg. Slowly across her stomach and around her firm breasts.

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Laura didn't know what to think of what she was seeing. She had thought she was going to find that her teen-aged son had been visiting porn sites again, but she wasn't ready for this. And she didn't believe it was her son this time. She looked at the blinking cursor in the "login" box and methodically began typing in various names she could think of, and passwords. Before long, she'd figured it out.

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Clare really enjoyed babysitting for the Martins. A typical weekday evening would involve her just sitting at home on the sofa watching TV, but here she could do exactly that and get paid for it at the same time. Wonderful. The Martins had a great TV system as well, with so many channels she could spend ages channel hopping without visiting the same channel twice, and more DVDs than she ever imagined one family would own.

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Usually, I-75 from Fort Lauderdale to Naples isn't a very exciting ride. But as my car sped along, passing Florida State Road 19 at around 75 mph, I was pretty fired up. Yeah, I noticed the hundred or so gators sunning themselves on the embankment that lines the interstate; that was different. However, the hormones that were coursing through me this day didn't have anything to do with being excited over cars, or mileage, or gators. The drive itself was a nuisance.

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Several years before my marriage, I met a young woman who had experienced much in life - for her age - but hadn't known the greatest pleasure of all until we met. This is the story of that first experience for her. I had seen her at work a few times, she was eye-catching to say the least. Her vivacious smile, friendly attitude and empathetic charm made her the type of person who lights up a room when she walks in.

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"Why don't you and Clancy go fishing," my dad said. The five of us, Uncle Ted, Aunt Bessie, Clancy, dad and me were finishing our afternoon tea in the farmhouse kitchen after unloading the fourth load of hay for the day. The new corrugated iron shed was a quarter full of hay and that was all there was room for. The rest was taken up with the farm machinery. The few horses dad still kept were in the old split log barn, which had seen better days.

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