Your erotic stories

Chapter 1 I was sitting in the rec room watching TV one afternoon when my eighteen old daughter Samantha came home from school. She came over and kissed me, and then she sat on my lap. Now when I say that she sat on my lap, what I mean is that she sat facing me, straddling me with her legs, and her arms on my shoulders. I knew immediately what that meant. Samantha wanted something, something special. And most likely, something expensive.

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Ever since I was a little girl, Christmas time has been my favorite time of year. But now I was a grown woman. I was home for the holidays on winter break from college. It was so great to see Paul, my high school sweetheart, after 4 months of being apart. Although we'd been dating for over two years, I was still a virgin and I intended to stay that way until we got married. Paul was okay with it though.

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It was a wild midsummer's night. The rain was pelting down in sheets and the wind was howling through the trees like the banshee's lonely wail. I was sitting in my favorite chair with a half full bottle of single malt Scotch in my left hand and a revolver in my right hand. There was only one bullet in the revolver and I was getting up my Dutch courage to play the first round of Russian roulette.

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Chapter 1 Dawn's friends were spending the night again. I really wasn't all that surprised, of course, but it would have been easier on me if they were staying at another parents house. There was some work I had to do tonight, but I guess it would have to wait. Whenever my daughter's friends are in the house, I don't get much done until they quiet down for the evening.

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"Happy Fucking Birthday to me!" I thought to myself. If only I knew at that moment just how happy my fifty-second birthday was truly going to be. But as I took my regular afternoon jog through Meyer Park in the northwest suburbs of Houston, Texas; my mind was a swirling mess of self-pity, loneliness and sexual frustration. My husband and I had been divorced for nearly four years, all three of my children were either grown and gone or away visiting their father for the summer and I hadn't gotten a good piece of ass in what seemed like decades.

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I was eighteen, had just moved out of my parents' house after breaking up with my girlfriend of two years. I was not ready to go to college. So against my father's advice I moved to a city far away from my small home town and found a job as a mail boy at a large real estate company, which made it possible for me to rent a small flat and pay for my own car.

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"My mom's convinced I won't graduate without getting pregnant," Kaylea told me, tucking in her shirt before tying her apron around her waist. "There are ways to make sure that doesn't happen," I joked. She rolled her eyes at me. "I'm serious, Kaylea." "I know," she said. "I'm careful. I won't get pregnant, Tim, I promise." As her boss instead of a teacher or parent, I knew I could say things to her other adults couldn't. "Famous last words of eighteen year olds everywhere," I teased right before adding the words I never should have said.

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Jade could hear her mother on the phone in the hall tearing a strip from Caitlyn's mother. She knew what it was about; it was the same thing that had got her sent to her room. Sent to her room at eighteen years old, treated like a child. And banned from ever seeing Caitlyn again, although even her mother must have realised that, at her age and with today's countless ways of communicating, the ban was pretty meaningless.

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I am twenty-nine years old and have been married for eight years. After eight years of marriage, life has become incredibly stagnant. Wendy spends most of her time at her sister's house. She thinks if she is home while I am here I will spend all my time trying to fuck her, she's probably right. If she is not at her sister's house then she is working part time at the University helping foreign students with their visa applications and finding host families for foreign exchange students.

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"Well, I have like 45 minutes to kill," sang the high-pitched, sweet teen voice of my daughter's curvy Latina friend Marisa, "would you like a sloppy blowjob?" My ears weren't expecting that question, and I swear I must have blushed. Perverted middle-aged fathers don't get that question often, or at least, this one doesn't. Or hasn't before at least. Maybe she saw me staring at her ample boobs in her tight babydoll, or she detected my eyes on her stellar round butt in that thin little skirt a few minutes earlier.

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