Your erotic stories

1. The scheme. The sudden gust of frigid wind practically tore the storm door out of Ed's hand as he went out into the wicked early March evening. An unexpected storm was moving in and a couple of inches of snow had already fallen as Ed helped his wife into their car which had been idling in the driveway. Ed ran around and slid behind the wheel, blowing on his hands and rubbing them together in an effort to restore some circulation.

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Linda's mother had been spectacular, so much so that I practically forgot about Linda. We kept seeing each other, but when I was with her I found myself thinking about her Mom. After all, it was an competition of sorts. While the 18 year old Linda had the advantage of youth and was more classically attractive than her mother, Millie had experience and the fact that a 50 year old woman found me desirable was a boost to my ego.

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I've always been a hairier-than-average guy, and I've always been grateful that, in the body-type lottery, I was given a hairy one. Mind you, I'm not the hairiest guy you'll ever meet -- not like those guys who get nicknames like 'Bear' or 'Ape' -- but my chest and shoulders have a nice, ample covering of hair, and my arms and legs, too. I was 'That Kid' in junior high -- the first guy in my class to hit puberty, the guy the other boys gawked at in the showers after gym class.

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It was just a summer job in between college semesters many years ago, but it was a learning experience and one that helped the younger man realize that some of the things he enjoyed that he thought strange were things that others enjoyed as well. *** "You okay, Tim?" my boss asked me as we sat under the tree after eating lunch. "Heat getting to you?"

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Chapter One: Connecting As soon as I saw her picture I was hooked. For many, or should I say most men, the plain looking woman staring back at them from the computer screen would have been passed by immediately in the search for a more classic beauty to be found elsewhere on the dating website I was skimming through.

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Life in rural upstate New York, circa 1972. Justin Anderson was on the verge of cumming, and at that moment in time life could not be better for the teenager. He had just graduated from high school and was going off to college in a few weeks. His girlfriend, Becky Biondi, was on her knees in front of him, sucking away on his cock. They had planned on fucking, but Justin had accidentally torn the condom while putting it on - his last one - so Becky was taking care of him as best she could.

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When the drizzle we had been standing in began to turn to something more substantial, the trees that had been sheltering us began to let in some of the rain, and that was just as good a reason to end this "party" I had been having with my best friend Jeff. We had been celebrating a couple of things, the most important as far as I was concerned being my 18th birthday. The other, more sobering event was my friend getting ready to go off to college.

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The following story is based on real people but the degree of reality it actually contains is known only by those people themselves. I chose to write their story using the rumors and my imagination, which may or may not be more interesting than real life was.

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It had become the highlight of my day, sitting out on the bench in front of the apartment complex I called home, waiting for the school bus to drop the students off. This gives you an idea of how exciting retirement was for me, but at 65 you take your thrills anyway you can. Each day at 3:35 or so, the Catholic school girls go by, dressed in identical outfits that were as stereotypical as they come.

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Two friends play out a ritual during the summer of 1973. . Chapter One: Anticipation. The shower turned off, causing my heart to start beating even faster. The bathroom door was about 6 feet away from the bed where I was pretending to sleep, and I saw the shadows of movement break the light at the bottom of that door. On the other side of that door, my best friend Kenny was probably drying off, and as the steam came out from under the space at the bottom of the door I visualized what Kenny was doing.

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