Your erotic stories

Eric had decided to book us a nice weekend break in the Lake District in England for his 51st birthday. It turned out to be a very nice weekend weather wise, which is unusual for the Lake District, and also a very naughty and sexy weekend overall! On arriving at the very small guest house we were booked into, we were shown to our room by one of the owners, a guy called Phillip. He ran the guest house with some of his family, his daughter and son in law to be precise.

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Andrea and I had had a thing, four or five years ago, way back when we still worked together. It had only lasted about a week, but it had been a quite memorable week (at least for me it sure was!), and we had managed to stay good friends after. We'd gone on to pursue different careers, and Andrea had become a dedicated, full-time lesbian, and occasionally we'd even dated the same girls (though never at the same time).

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It had been a terribly long and tiresome day of shopping at the mall, trying to take care of all of the Christmas presents that I had left 'til the last minute. Having just hauled all the packages out to my car, I decided impetuously that I too deserved a present for myself, so I headed back into the mall with only a half hour to go until closing time. As I walked from the car to the shopper's entrance, a few light snowflakes dusted my jacket and tickled my nose... it was the first snow of the year, just in time for the big day.

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Excitement coursed through my veins as I walked onto the University campus for the first time. I was nineteen, away from home for the first time, and about to open a new chapter on my life. I had enrolled to start in the winter semester. I had decided to pursue an MBA, with the ultimate goal of developing my own line of clothing.

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"How'd you like to get hold of that?" Roger Goins asked as he stirred his fresh drink. Roger was one of those guys who always talked about strange pussy, but never seemed to make an attempt to get any. He was too pussy-whipped by his wife, Elaine, to take a chance. Me, I was on the look out all the time—but so was my wife, Shirley. It took about fifty years and four marriages for me to learn that a woman who liked to fuck all the time—the only kind I wanted to be married to—was going to fuck somebody else every now and then.

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Vikki came into my life through a business venture of mine. I had to make some contractual agreements with several not for profit organizations so they'd agree to lend me certain information that they had in their possession. Vikki put the contracts together so I wouldn't get myself into legal trouble. I was expecting to get a 60-ish balding lawyer when I contracted her firm for legal services and instead they sent her out. When we first met she was dressed quite smartly, as one would expect, and conservatively enough to satisfy even the most up tight executive.

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The first time I ever saw Kevin, I was picking up some materials from the supply store that were needed at a job site. My job required that I occasionally run extra materials to the construction crews if they ran short during the day. I don't mind being outdoors. Some women prefer the office environment, but I like the wide-open spaces, and the freedom to take the occasional truck ride to a job site.

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It had been a long day, and all Jim Reynolds wanted to think about was taking in an evening run and enjoying a quiet Friday night at home. He had a full weekend planned ahead of him, finishing up the renovation work on his latest real estate investment. Running and working was his way of staving off depression. Since his divorce five years ago, he had been buying older homes, living in them while he updated them, and then selling them. If you didn't mind living in substandard conditions for a while, it was a good way to make a tidy profit outside regular work, and keep your mind off growing old alone.

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No sooner had the key turned off in the ignition than I saw disaster about to strike. Snatching open the car door, I raced across the street. "Wait!" I yelled as I Olympic-hurdled a lawn sprinkler. Three feet up a ladder, Mrs. Kemp turned to look at me. She smiled and stepped back down. "Hey, Jimmy. When did you get home?" Panting to catch my breath, I gave her a grin. "Came in... late last night." I pointed over my shoulder at my car. "Mom had me to go grab a few things at Wally World for her."

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The day I slept late that July was unforgettable. I had just graduated high school and was gently preparing to go off to college, but mainly that summer I was relaxing – sleeping late and not having many plans. My sister was travelling somewhere in Europe and my parents were both working long days, probably thinking about my college expenses. We also had a house guest for a few weeks that summer. Leigh Chandler was an old friend of my mother's from her college days. Leigh had recently started a new job in town and was staying with us while she looked for an apartment.

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