Your erotic stories

When I was younger my dad got me a summer job working on Saturdays for Mrs Jones. She was a woman who had a property out by the river and my job was to help her do landscaping, cut back trees, lay pavings etc. The property was a bit run down and it was hard work. Mrs Jones was a bit of a hippie. She lived alone and I guess she must have been divorced because she never wore a wedding ring, even though everyone called her Mrs Jones.

read more

Cat squirmed on the hard wooden chair and watched the seconds tick by on the clock. 4:55 on Friday afternoon. Five minutes until doomsday. She worried at an almost non-existent hangnail, nibbling it smooth. Was she a glutton for punishment? Had a death wish, perhaps? She smiled ruefully to herself. Why, oh why, was it so hard to get kicked out of school?

read more

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.

read more

Have you ever found yourself in a situation, you knew many would consider wrong? No, I'm not talking murder wrong, so calm down, dear reader. I guess to tell this story right; I have to begin at the beginning of my story. A while back (no, I'm not telling you when, as for all I know, the wrong person or people are reading this) I was helping a friend move into her new place. Now, I know, helping a friend move isn't a bad thing, but it was what happened after that was, well, so to speak. My friend had a nice neighbor, a widowed father with three boys: Bobby -- 20, Dawson -- 18, and Elliot -- 12.

read more

This is a story about life at Sheri's Place. All the characters portrayed herein are eighteen years old or older. This story is pure fiction. * "Come on bitch, suck on it!" demanded Jerry. Just then Phil a graduate of the high school came around the corner of the shed. What he saw was Xenia on her knees with 18 year old Jerry's cock in her mouth.

read more

My marriage went from bad to worse, as my wife went south on me, taking our kids with her. She convinced our two lovely teenage daughters that I was a beast, had treated them all horribly, and thus deserved the worst treatment possible.

read more

The thumping bass sound announced the approach of Miguel's car long before Damon saw it come around the corner and pull up to the side of the basketball court. Damon took one last shot, banking the ball off the backboard and through the hoop before jogging over to the high chain link fence surrounding the court where Miguel's car sat on the other side. The passengers side window of Miguel's Camry slid down and Luke leaned out.

read more

"Just take it," my best friend whispered in my ear before switching aisles. Like a pro, she pocketed a pack of gummy bears to go with a bag of chips. It stunned me that she could be so apathetic about the whole thing. Stealing? I'd never stolen anything in my life -- not even first base! Yet with nervous hands, I picked up a little baggie of Swedish fish, and looked towards the register. The man there was sitting with his feet up on the counter and his head down, staring into a home and gardening magazine.

read more

"There is, of course, the tale of the man who built a horse of ebony that flew through the air with its rider—" "We've heard that one already. What about the tale of the three Sufi Qalandars who were each the sons of kings and also each blind in one eye?" "That one was as old as a dried date when my father was a boy. If you want to hear a truly wondrous story, listen to me recount the tale of the rich man who bought a mermaid as his concubine only to discover—"

read more

I can never remember being alone. Even when by myself, there was this feeling that I was there beside myself. Such is the feeling some identical twins have. My name is Alan, a few minutes older than my brother Brad. We have shared everything in our 20 years. Actually, counting the time we shared the same amniotic sac it's been more than 20 years.

read more