Your erotic stories

I found one way to connect with other men looking for some fun was on chat lines on the phone. There were a few that were free although many charged for the service and you could get on and find others interested in the same thing you were interested in. The particular time I'm thinking about started off as many of them did with me getting an invitation to talk with another guy about what it was we were looking for. During the course of the first few minutes it became clear that he was looking for a man to come over and give him a blow job.

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My father-in-law is tall and well-built, with really sexy bedroom eyes. But I hardly gave Daddy Jim—the pet name I gave him to distinguish him from my husband, who is also named Jim—a second thought, except for the times we went out to visit him, so we could use his pool. Sometimes, when my Jim had to work on the weekends, I drove out there by myself to swim and work on my tan. One Saturday morning about a month ago, pulling into his driveway, I noticed a strange car parked in front of the garage.

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I suppose a lot of people would consider me to be a slut now. But I don't think it's my fault, really. I mean, what else could have happened? I was one of those girls who started to flower into womanhood early. I was a skinny young girl who wore a B-cup brassiere when I was still in the sixth grade. I was completely embarrassed by my development. I dressed to avoid showing my rapidly blossoming femininity. Layered clothing became the norm along with a shoulders-hunched-forward posture.

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The phone rang once. I groaned, stirring from dreams as deep as the blue eyes I had been dreaming about. The phone rang twice. I sat up and gave the phone two middle fingers. The phone rang again. "FUCK!" I shouted, lunging myself across the silk sheets to pick the damned thing up.

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I hated it when they first built the thing. It came up almost over night, and when the construction noises faded I thought I'd have peace. No such luck. The sounds of jackhammers and cement mixers were replaced with the endless endless clattering roll of skateboards. The skate park was an atrocity that could not stand, and I was determined to see its eyesore slopes and rails and endless graffiti tags bulldozed to the ground and repaved over.

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Ever sat back and thought about sexual situations in your past? I had quite a few in my 20's, good ones, bad ones, and down right awesome ones. One year at a Halloween party for one... I grew up in a small neighborhood. 45 houses in the neighborhood containing people of all ages and statuses. All of us kids knew each other, age was no barrier. Now close to 30, a few of my friends still lived here.

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I walked home in the glaring sun as sprinklers tinkled on the lawns of our neighbours and sweat seeped slowly into my clothes. I wiped my brow and held the straps of my backpack, beneath which the thin material of my school shirt was nearly saturated. The temperature had risen steadily over the past week and the heat wave was now at its peak.

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I need to tell you about what happened here last week while you were away. You deserve to know and I just hope that you understand. You left me on Monday last week and by the time Wednesday rolled around, my mind started to wonder. I started thinking about you and your tongue and your cock. I put on some lingerie to make myself feel sexy and opened a bottle of pinot. I sat at the computer trying desperately to find myself a story to get off to.

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