Your erotic stories

Dave was spading the flowerbed along the fence but his attention was on his wife who was planting flowers in the bed around the fountain. At forty-five, Jane was still a very impressive woman, especial bent over on her knees with her ass up in the air. The old cut offs she wore showed more than a little of her ass cheeks and allowed the plump outer lips of her sex to peek at him. The tent in the front of his shorts was a jutting testimonial to her sexiness.

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The first thing I ever noticed about Lady B were her legs. They were gorgeous. Her upper body was hidden by the side of a wing-backed chair but stretching out over the side of the chair were her legs, endlessly long and clad in a pair of black seamed nylon stockings, the rounded white thighs above that wide band of dark double webbing bisected by black suspender straps. They were perfection - totally erotic, beautifully shaped, warm soft flesh which made you automatically lick your lips - in anticipation of licking her lips -- upper and lower, outer and inner.

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As he looked down the companion way into the cabin of the sail boat he reflected over the past year and a half that he had known Lori. She was slipping out of her clothes getting ready to go swimming with him. In the privacy of Lake Huron they would swim nude and enjoy the sun.... and of course enjoy sex in every possible way until they were both absolutely sated.

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Jake knew he was in for a long weekend. His mother in law was coming for a visit and he really did not have the patience to deal with her. It wasn't that he didn't like her, but she was an extreme busy body. She spent most of her time suggesting ways in which him and his wife Patty could change. On her last visit, she had gone as far as rearranging all of the furniture when they were at work one day. His mother in law Karen, meant well, but didn't know when to back down.

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Kevin was grateful when his boss invited him home for dinner one Friday night. He had only been at the accounting firm for three months. He was fresh out of college and trying to fit in. George Jones, his boss, had built the company into one of the biggest firms in their town. Kevin was lucky to have landed there. He wasn't very social in college but in accounting that was okay. He minded his own business at work which was easy because of natural shyness and the general environment at the office.

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For most of my life now I've had a problem, and the problem has been with my "package". It's too big, 12" inches long and almost 5" inches around, I've measured. Of course it hasn't always been that big, the problem started when I was around 13, when puberty really began to take effect for me. Soon after I started growing at a furious rate, and when I grew, all of me grew. When puberty started for me, I guess my "package" was around 4 1/2, maybe 5 inches. Two years later it was the 12" inch monster I carry with me now.

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For all intents and purposes, this is a sequel of sorts of my first story. Those who read the first story know about the affair I had begun with John and how it helped liberate me from the shackles of my life. It takes place after my lunch with my daughter, Beth. She had gone to tell John about the man she had met and how she had already slept with this man. John reacted in bewildered amazement, according to my daughter, cursing at her before leaving the apartment. Beth called me immediately in tears, upset that she had made a mistake.

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I dropped down under the shade of the tree next to Bill and Joe. "Has she been out yet?" "Ya don't see any laundry hangin' up do ya'?" Joe observed. "Good, I had to finish fixing the fence out back, I thought she might be done by now." Working on a cattle ranch in Montana in my youth did not offer many possibilities for sexual entertainment. We couldn't log in on the Internet and surf for porn sites, we had no soft core porn on the movie channels, and the nearest titty bar was some thousand miles from here.

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Irene lives over my back fence. She has been alone for most of 10 years that I've lived in this house. Her husband had been the local OSHA inspector who had perished during a routine safety inspection downtown. He was testing the safety cabling around the perimeter of the 18th floor of a high rise under construction, when he tripped and fell into a wheel barrow full of water, knocked himself out and drowned. The story was glorified a bit about having fallen to his death, but I knew better.

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The engine ticked lightly, rhythmically, having only recently completed a twenty mile journey. Rain dripped from the frame of the car, from the edges of its bumpers. The windows were blurred, save for the two arches where the wipers had recently swept drops from the tempered glass. The car didn't belong there. Not in that parking lot. Not in that town.

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