Your erotic stories

Maxwell Anderson Jr., or Max to most of his friends, had waited years to be allowed to attend his parent's annual Mardi Gras party. It was considered by many in their social circles to be the grandest party of the season. Max's mother, Edwina Anderson, was born and raised in New Orleans, and left when she married Maxwell Sr. so he could take a position that ultimately led to his running his own law firm. Edwina, like so many other wives of wealthy and successful husbands, was a 'bored housewife' who did charity work, worked out, and drank too much.

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This is a retelling of an experience a very good friend of mine (I'll call her Judith) had 2 years ago before she met the fella that she recently married. I have her permission to retell the story so long as I did not use her name or the names of anyone else connected to this. Her experience was so good that I don't need to embellish it in any way. So here goes ....

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The air conditioner kept the tractor cab to the same comfort level as my living room in spite of the ninety-five degrees of searing, July heat. I hit the hydraulics to raise the cultivator, made the turn, and lined back up on the next eight rows of soybeans. Another tap on the hydraulic lever caused the gleaming sweeps to bite into the rich, black, Illinois soil. It used to be hotter and harder work, but I liked it more when my ears were filled with the sound of the tractor exhaust instead of the local radio station, and when I could smell the freshly turned dirt and herbal scent of the weeds.

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Eighteen-year-old Kristina entered the Dean's office. The busty blonde was wearing her school uniform which consisted of a white blouse, which was currently unbuttoned enough to show her ample cleavage, a short skirt and her white knee-high socks with black shoes. "Miss Mitchell, please come in and have a seat." said Dean Whitmore.

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The Moguls' General had plowed me almost as deeply as Konan the barbarian had. And before he left he assured me that now he had enjoyed my 'asset's' he knew I would be a great success at the Moguls' court. When the General was gone I lay back happily among my cushions with my legs wide, feeling better fucked than I had ever been before, and thinking about my brilliant future. But I also longed to feel the great barbarian Konans' huge weapon plowing me deeply again.

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The old fisherman sat out at the end of the dilapidated dock in his lopsided deck chair. Though it was getting on toward evening the sun was nice and warm. He was fishing really light; a homemade bamboo pole and an old reel he maybe got before he had whiskers. Duck-taped it to the pole and wound it with ten pound test. Fishing flounder didn't take much gear. He had a card of hooks, a tin with some weights and floats and some leader. Minnows in an old milk bottle and a plastic paint bucket for his catch. He had caught some.

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It was the middle of a cold December day. I sat there in my small, unclean apartment just passing the time while watching TV. I had the day off. That's usually a good thing but today it wasn't a big deal. Most people were too busy to even do anything. Christmas was only a few days away. I was alone.

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Jenna watched as Lilly pulled her t-shirt over her breasts. B Cups, she thought to herself. Lilly smoothed out the wrinkles and pulled on her jeans. Jenna lay quietly, watching intently from the bed. Lilly thought she was still sleeping. Jenna watched as Lilly's pert breasts bounced as she crossed the room, leaning over slightly. Jenna caught a glimpse of what was down her t-shirt, making her bite her lips with anticipation.

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Erica was in my humanities class. I haven't seen her in five years. At the time, I was already looking for a real job and she was living in the dorms. We started talking—complaining really, early in the semester. The first time we spoke we were grumbling our annoyances with our professor, but a week later she was punctuating her sentences with emotive slaps to my shoulder as she shared her worries about our midterm.

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He woke her up at a quarter to five in the morning. The sun hadn't risen yet, and in the darkness of their bedroom he slid down beneath the sheets and parted her thighs, and woke her with long, probing licks. She grew wet almost immediately, and he moved over her, slid himself inside her.

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