Your erotic stories

We'd only lived in the neighbourhood a few weeks, so when I first saw him mowing the lawn as I pulled into the driveway, I thought it might have been my own mistake. But no, I checked the house number, and I saw my wife's car in the other parking spot, so I knew I was in the right place. I shrugged and got out of the car. I reached back in for my briefcase, and then watched the young man mowing our lawn as I walked to the front door.

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Gawd how I hate him! His name is Daniel and he is such a jerk. Everybody else thinks so too, not just me. For some reason they all just put up with it. Well not me, I can't stand that prick! "What is he doing here?" I spit turning to Kayla. "Calm down, Jane," she says soothingly. "There's plenty of other people here...you don't even have to talk to him."

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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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I was at Steve's place having a beer and a chat; I heard the front door open, and the voices of Steve's wife Judy and daughter Becky came in. They had been out to measure up some things in a flat that Becky had bought. Both came in and I stood up to say hi, I receive the usual kiss on the cheek, and hug from Judy and then from Becky as well, as she said, jumping up and down, "Hi Bob, nice to see you, it's been a while, how you doin?"

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I was still getting used to being on my own. My wife and I had divorced almost a year ago and when she packed up and moved out, it was the first time in many years that I had no one else to think of as I planned whatever it is that I would be doing. I had been in a funk recently but could feel that time had begun to work its healing magic and I was getting ready to renter life amongst the living. I had bought my wife out as part of the settlement and managed to keep the house but unfortunately since the divorce, I had lost interest in the yard and it showed.

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On the surface the two couples seemed to be too different to have much in common; but, as they say, looks can be deceiving. Darren and Jane on one hand were the quintessential urban family couple. Expressive, vocal, involved, engaged -- the best way to describe them both was "Larger than Life". They coached, managed and volunteered countless hours over the years with the kids' sports. They were tireless fundraisers for charities and good-causes all over the place. Always busy, always doing, always larger than life.

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Betty awakened to the sound of water running in her bathroom. It took her a moment to remember that she hadn't fallen asleep alone. Bill had come to see her that morning. She was laying on her side, facing away from the bathroom door. Looking out the window, she could see, across the Intracoastal Waterway, the cement tile roofs of Ft. Lauderdale as it stretched all the way to the Everglades.

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I am one lucky son of a bitch. There. I said it. I have a life any other guy would kill to have. And I have no idea why, except when genes play a role. It certainly isn't because I'm a genius, because I'm not. I'm not the biggest, the fastest, the strongest, or the best athlete. I'm sure as hell not rich. Just lucky. Now, I did mention genes helped out, and I wasn't lying. I mean, I'm pretty average-looking: brown hair, green eyes, thin, six feet tall even, straight teeth.

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Maxine stepped into the new black tube dress she'd bought and pulled it up over her body. It clung to every curve and she immediately regretted buying it. Her usual style was simple and classic, cut to her knee with a sensible neckline. The saleswoman told her that she wasn't to wear a bra or panties, as it would ruin the 'line'. At the time Maxine had dismissed her advice but now, looking in the mirror, she could understand.

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"Why aren't you having sex with Trevor?" asked Jen during lunch with her best friend. "If I had a housemate who was: a good looking guy, with a big cock, knew how to use it and liked to eat pussy .... I'd be fucking him two to three times a week. Maybe even two to three times a day on the weekends!" "You're such a slut!" replied Tina, laughing. "Believe me I've thought about it ever since I broke up with Steve two months ago.

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