Your erotic stories

"Wash up, lazybones, and take those furs to Sir Charles," the tanner ordered. The day's chill turned his breath to a liquor-laden mist. "Sir Charles, Father?" Tanners asked, confused. The tanner rolled his eyes to the heavens. "Oh ye gods, why curse me with such a stupid boy?" He turned to the young man. "The banker, the one whose son you don't like. He's offered three gold for the lot."

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It had been the week from hell. The boss had been on his tail all week, everything that could go wrong had gone wrong and, to top it all, head office had sent through a memo late on Friday afternoon stating that there were to be cut backs across the board and that staff would be losing their jobs.

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If I tried to describe myself to someone I’d say that I am an athletic, well-built, 44 year old man, with a reasonable amount of intelligence. I am average in the looks department; I’m no male model, but I believe I still attract attention from the female species. I have been married once but my wife died when she was only 28. It was a car accident. I was in a terrible state after her death, but since then I’m just grateful that she didn’t die from some dreadful disease like others who have died young. We didn’t have any kids and I have remained single since that time.

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"Well buddy, it's been a long time. Come on I'll buy lunch." Ralph said. "We have a lot to catch up on. How's Sally? Still as gorgeous as always? I sure would like to see her again." We went around the corner to a greasy spoon restaurant, sat and ordered burgers and fries. Having not seen each other for a couple years we had a lot to catch up on.

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"Nice day to wash a car isn't it?" Dean walked up the driveway seeing his friend's mother in cut-off jean shorts and a black bikini top washing the car. "Oh yeah! Nice and sunny out this morning!" She replied back with a smile while pulling the soapy sponge out of the bucket of water. "Hank home?" He tried his best keeping his eyes off her body if she just happened to look over his way while talking.

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Carl was a large young man, heavily built but in the manner of a fit sportsman rather than an overweight desk jockey. He looked slow and his smooth forehead seemed unlikely to ever be wrinkled by deep thoughts. A casual onlooker would assume him to be a dumb jock, unfit for anything other than manual labour when he wasn't playing sport.

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The early night air was warm and the skies clear enough to see the crescent moon shining brightly, the stars around acting like a thousand small fireflies as they danced gracefully, adding to the beauty. A tall, lone figure descended the Central Library steps on this particular New Zealand Spring night, late in the season, it was November. The figure paused to look up and admiring the beauty, took a photo with her IPhone 4, then continued walking towards the bus platform a few streets over.

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I met Lynne for a drink after work. She said she wanted to talk to me about something which means that she more than likely has a match for me. Lynne runs a lesbian match making service. As long as both parties pay the fee for the match it is not legally prostitution. I pay a very small fee and my matches almost always pay a very hefty fee which Lynne and I split 50—50. That comes really close to prostitution and when you factor in the tips that I get, well . . . .

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I would like to tell you of an extraordinary episode in my life. It was a time of growth and transformation, a sort of rite of passage if you will, that began when I met an amazing woman named Claire just a few days after my 24th birthday. She lived on the same floor as me in an apartment building that also housed a big indoor swimming pool. It was there that we first met. She was then, by the way, 68 years old.

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Stretched out on your couch you look so sexy, so confident, and so proud of your masculinity. Your cock is beginning to swell because you know what's coming; we've done this so many times we've lost count. We aren't in a hurry; there is no need to rush. No one knows what we share. I'm seated comfortably across from you, still clothed, gazing at you - your manhood. Drinking in the beauty of your lovely cock!

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