Your erotic stories

It was the middle of a cold December day. I sat there in my small, unclean apartment just passing the time while watching TV. I had the day off. That's usually a good thing but today it wasn't a big deal. Most people were too busy to even do anything. Christmas was only a few days away. I was alone.

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So here it was, Thanksgiving Day, and I found myself in a strange man's bathroom, with my pantyhose pulled down around my knees, my dress hiked up over my hips, and that strange man's cock sliding in and out of my pussy. Well, in truth, he wasn't a complete stranger ... he was my boyfriend's father and I had met him two hours prior. But I'm getting ahead of myself, let me start at the beginning.

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The large house was silent except for the sound of Jennifer and Nicole's footsteps on the tile floor. Everywhere they looked, elegant Christmas decorations adorned the walls. They turned into a lavish living room and saw a single occupant—a fellow teacher named Cheryl—sitting next to an eight foot Christmas tree.

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Mary was dead. This must be distinctly understood, or nothing wonderful can come of the story I am about to relate. Mary had been my wife for over twenty years, mother of our kids, confidant, no doubt the best thing that had ever happened to me. She was not, I hasten to add, perfect, nor was I, by any means, and we had the usual ups and fortunately few downs. However, one morning, Mary just didn't wake up.

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