Your erotic stories

My mother has to be the sexiest MILF on the planet, that's what my friends tell me and I agree. As a child, I took for granted how sexy my mother looked parading around the house wearing nothing but a bra and panties during the summer months. Now that I'm older and attending college, I'm beginning to see my mother in a different light. I love going through the photographs of Mom and me together.

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I was in Manila for business for 10 days, and had a lot to accomplish, but didn't know the local culture, or have many local contacts. Through an old school friend, I contacted the Chair of the Industrial Engineering Department of De La Salle University to get a recommendation for a highly professional student who could act as my local liaison for the week.

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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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The freight elevator seemed to be taking forever. Not that Alex was really in that much of a hurry. After all, he wasn't going anywhere for Thanksgiving. Home was too far away and he just couldn't to go home for Christmas and Thanksgiving. No, after work, all Alex had to look forward to was an empty dorm. His roommates and most of his friends that lived in the dorm had already left for their respective homes earlier in the day. But he didn't mind. Alex was actually looking forward to having the room all to himself. He liked his roommate quite a bit, but having a roommate meant having to be considerate of the other person.

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Saturday I peered into the rearview mirror and saw the familiar VW logo of Jenna's Jetta. Not that I was worried about her finding her way. We'd been driving this route to the beach for over 15 of her 20 years, so she certainly knew the route. It was pretty much a straight shot from Columbia to Charleston on I-26 and then a short jog over to Isle of Palms. Nothing to it.

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I am not sure what motivated me. Was I just sick of guys my age? After all, they were immature. And especially, so I have been told, sexually immature. As a sophomore in college, I had only slept with four guys. Well, that is been fucked by four guys, I have fooled around with many others. In that time though I had never had a guy bring me to orgasm. Take a typical night with the last guy I fucked, Johnnie.

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"I'm concerned about your work in this course, Theresa. You've already missed three assignments, you haven't been to half of my classes, and your midterm research assignment is due in two weeks. How is that coming? Have you started it?" "Yes, Professor Burk, but I don't know what to write. I tried to do the other assignments, but I'm behind in all my classes.

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When I was at college my younger sister grew through her teens, and those friends of hers I remembered from childhood as daft little girls turned into some attractive young women. On my times back home between terms I'd find some hot young chick or other in my parents' kitchen keen to see their friend's brother again and shoot the breeze with an 'older man'. Amongst, Amy - my sister's - gaggle of friends there had always been 'the twins'. Mainly Caroline, one of an 'identical' twosome.

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I was definitely less than thrilled about spending the night on Kate's lumpy couch, but I also understood that there really wasn't any other option. I certainly would have preferred sharing Kate's full-size bed with her, but I couldn't see that actually happening. It wasn't like there was a whole lot of room in her small Manhattan apartment and since April was staying with her for the summer, she had dibs on the small guest bed.

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Most of Matt's friends went to Lauderdale, or Daytona, or somewhere typical for Spring Break, looking to abandon themselves in the slick, sunscreen- and alcohol-laced musk of ten thousand horny college kids in a space too small to contain them. Matt had another plan, though--he'd head down to the smaller towns, along the Atlantic Coast. Just as much sex in the air, but better parking. I suppose, he thought, I shouldn't complain. The mile markers whipped by as Rachel goosed the accelerator on the old Chevy wagon.

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