Your erotic stories

I met Gwen at the restaurant, where I went for breakfast every morning, before work, after my wife, Linda, left me for a younger man. Just as I had no idea she had a lover, I didn't know my wife was unhappy enough to leave me. I mean, now that I think about it, she was pretty miserable, but what wife isn't? With everything, including sex so routine and predictable, the romance fizzles, after being married for a while. Still, totally clueless, I thought everything was the routine same, until it wasn't and until she was no longer there to cook breakfast.

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Megan glanced at the clock as her friend on the phone laughed about the latest bit of gossip that they'd just shared. "I'm going to have to go, Angie. I have somebody coming to look at the basement in a few minutes." "I can't believe you're taking in a boarder. I don't think I could have a stranger living in my house."

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My parents started teaching my brothers and me at a very young age the importance of helping others, though they stressed that helping wasn't necessarily limited to the less fortunate or the poor or the needy. Basically what they taught was that if someone was lacking an ability or resource that you possessed, the right thing to do was to offer it to them. We were also taught to do this out of the goodness of our hearts rather than for personal gain, but we learned that the people we were helping usually did not want to be considered charity cases, so they'd often overcompensate by paying us extremely well for our help.

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Kimberly stood peeking through the curtains into her back yard, feeling deliciously naughty. Her children were away with her ex-husband for the summer, so there was really nothing standing in the way of a little fun. Outside, Chase pulled off his shirt, and she got chills from the sight of his muscular torso. Her eyes dropped to his waist, and she let out a quiet moan as she drank in the V formed by his abdominal muscles vanishing into his shorts.

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Sitting out on the back deck I do not always hear the doorbell when it rings. I should probably fix that problem some day since I spend so much time out here enjoying the view and sun. Then again I do not get many unexpected guests. I live on the outskirts of town on a large bluff. The back of my home faces the south towards the city and the view is spectacular.

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I could have sworn she was about my age. I'm 21 now, making me a dedicated observer of girl's asses and legs for the last eight years or so. I can detect the slightly-too-slender look of a hot little piece of jailbait, or the subtle signs of impending cellulite that brand most older women. So as I walked along the beach perhaps 30 feet behind the bikini-clad brunette, I never would have guessed she was old enough to be my mom.

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Dijon sat comfortably in one of the two wing backed chairs in front of the desk. She had one knee crossed over the other, her short skirt showing several miles of her famous long legs. Her hands gripped the arms of the chair and she kept tensing and pulling with her arms. She was nervous for some reason and it showed.

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For as long as I can remember, my best friend has always been this guy named Brian. Brian has always been the fastest guy at everything we did. So much so, that in order to keep up with him you had to chase him. After a while, that's what we all started to call him. Chase and I did every thing together, even if I had him by two years. Over the years, our family's got close as we got closer. By the time we got to high school, we were calling each other's mother mom.

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This move was a big step for me. After being married for thirty years I finally had my kids raised and was left without a life, neither; personal, professional nor sexual as we'd been living apart in the same house for two years. I finally made the decision to leave and make my own way again. Needless to say, much was my own fault as I tolerated the neglect and did so from personal fears and the loathing to be on my own with two kids, but none the less, as I approached my thirty year anniversary I kept asking myself, "Do you want another thirty years like this?" and the answer came back every time as "fuck no!".

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When you have someone like Anne working for you, it's pretty easy going to work everyday. Not only is she a top-notch assistant but she's absolutely beautiful and best of all, I get the pleasure of fucking her whenever the opportunity presents itself. I first fucked Anne last fall when I took her on a business trip. The original plan was for it to be a one time thing because at the time I had this silly rule of what goes on out of town stays out of town. In fact that's the name of the story describing our first encounter.

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