Your erotic stories

I smiled at my skinny shrimp of a cousin as she practiced on her trampoline. At 15, she still looked like an 11-year-old, with her blonde hair tied in a ragged ponytail and her innocent white T-shirt and cut-off shorts outfit. Her mom, my father's sister Tanya, had just gotten a divorce the year before. Tracie, her only child, had taken it hard but was throwing herself, literally, into her gymnastics. She'd always been a natural, with her skinny body and graceful moves. "Nice backflip!" I called out as she somersaulted up, landing on her feet.

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I think it must have been some kind of temporary insanity. What other way is there to explain where I found myself that day? Driving in my car, naked from the waist down, not knowing exactly what was going to happen when I reached the address that was written on the paper lying on the seat between my bare legs.

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I love how today's older people complain that today's generation are all sluts. I mean, we are, but so were our parents and presumably our grandparents (although I'm not a big fan of thinking of grandma being a slut back in the day). The point is, although I wasn't a slut who fucked just anybody, I was very cock hungry when I was eighteen as was my best friend Kelly...although she was more of a fuck em' and leave them sort of gal.

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I have a secret that I've never told anyone, not even my husband who knows everything about me. The events of a summer night, after I turned 18 and graduated from high school, that changed my life and contributed to who I am today. I learned a lot of things from my mother that summer, some of which she didn't intend to teach me.

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'Knock...knock...knock'. Melanie put her book down and answered the front door. "Hi...Mrs. Barton," the good looking teenager asked, "Is Warren in?" "Ehm no," she smiled when she recognised her son's best-friend Lee Clark or Clarkie as he was known to his friends, "he's at work but shouldn't be long; do you want to come in and wait?" "Yeh thanks." He mumbled and wiped his trainers on the door mat as he followed the slim woman into the living room.

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Greg waved goodbye to his wife, Susan, as she backed her Camry out of the driveway. Before she was even out of the driveway he started planning his weekend. He couldn't remember the last time he had the house to himself for an hour, much less a whole weekend. But he figured it might happen more often. His daughter was a senior in High School now and his son was away at college spending way too much money and probably partying his ass off.

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Naomi Phillips stood at the bus stop, her shoulders slumped, eyes staring ahead blankly. Her mind kept going over and over the events of the summer, when she and her parents had moved to this new neighborhood. They were so happy and then... Why did her father have to have a fatal heart attack? Why was he having an affair with his secretary? How could he have squandered his wife's and daughter's future on this sordid affair?

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Chapter One David Parker moved in next door a little over a year ago and quickly became friends with my parents. David is forty-two-years old, making him three years their junior, and the three of them spend a few nights each week playing cards or sitting on the patio talking and watching the sun go down. Since he 's been divorced for ten years mom is always trying to set him up with one of her friends, but it never works out.

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"If this does not solve your issue Patrick. I swear to God I am going to fire you as soon as you get back." "Yes, sir." Patrick muttered as he hung up the phone. Patrick was sitting in some therapist's waiting room. He looked around at the cream-colored walls as he debated reading Newsweek. He decided against it and his mind wandered.

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Billy Olsen's life back in 1966 was no bed of roses, having been sick for much of his teenage years, and even after pretty much recovering from rheumatic fever Billy's overbearing mother insisted he stayed in the house most of the time, studying and reading.

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