Your erotic stories

I sat on the couch, the room lit by the flicker of some skin-emax show. There was a tumbler of scotch in my hand; one of far too many for the day, but then, this was our annual vacation with a group of friends at the beach and excessive consumption was practically required. This was the third night though, around 11pm, early by first night standards, but well past the breaking point for most after three days of hard partying in the sun and sand.

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Jenny and Tim were in bed after a long, tiring day of shopping and visiting family. Jenny was wearing a matching pair of blue shorts and camisole, while Tim wore only his boxers Jenny's head was resting on Tim's shoulder as they watched TV. They talked about the day and eventually were telling each other stories from their childhood about various family members.

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I have to confess that I was surprised when I heard the doorbell ring about mid-morning Sunday. Who would come to visit me that early and especially on a Sunday? I thought that maybe, just maybe, it was my brother and his wife on their way back from church. We lived pretty close to each other, so if he needed to borrow a tool or something he might stop by.

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Don't get me wrong. I love a good sexy scenario as much as the next horny young woman. But even I knew this was completely unacceptable. I was your typical rebellious girl. My parents had divorced when I was little, and I refused to bother with anyone of their partners. I didn't see the point in pretending to like people I had nothing in common with and who, as far as I knew, were only bothering with me to please my parents.

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I was hungry but I didn't know what for. My wife had left that morning with our baby to visit her mother for the weekend. I'd spent most of the morning laying around, feeling guilty for not going with her. We'd fought about it. I texted her, she didn't text back. I played some video games. I went outside, it was a hot summer day. I looked over the wall that enclosed my yard and saw someone a few yards down, puttering around, a neighbor I didn't know.

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After a short courtship, Mara and I married in a small ceremony with only a few close friends and family members present: her mother, my mother and father, her brother, and of course, my son Luke. Luke was 11 years old now, not the best age to go through such a large life change as getting a new stepmother, but then again, is there ever a good age for that? In any case, he was clearly feeling better than he had just after his mother died. He was performing better in school, and he seemed to be bonding with Mara.

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"OK guys, I guess this should be my last drink. It's not even the weekend yet." Dan set the cluster of three pint glasses down heavily on the bar table. His friends grumbled their agreement as they laid claim to their drinks. "Still, we'll make the most of it when it comes though. You out tomorrow?" Nick directed the question at both of his friends.

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Standing in line at the meat counter of the little family owned market, I couldn't keep my eyes off the attractive young woman waiting ahead of me. She was wearing Capri pants that perfectly displayed her fine young form. Over the years I had met far more interesting women in food markets, fabric stores and garden centers than in bars. "Have you shopped here before?" Not terribly original, but it was a start.

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College classes are bad enough without falling behind. Between the sheer volume of classes and my work obligations that barely covered my living expenses, it was inevitable that something would give. Biology became the threatened species of my class load. Mrs. Gail Hannity was my Biology instructor. Smart, precise, and really quite beautiful, it was entirely possible that she was a major contributor to my in-class distraction.

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"How'd you like to get hold of that?" Roger Goins asked as he stirred his fresh drink. Roger was one of those guys who always talked about strange pussy, but never seemed to make an attempt to get any. He was too pussy-whipped by his wife, Elaine, to take a chance. Me, I was on the look out all the time—but so was my wife, Shirley. It took about fifty years and four marriages for me to learn that a woman who liked to fuck all the time—the only kind I wanted to be married to—was going to fuck somebody else every now and then.

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