Your erotic stories

Alright, so I last told you about Becky in Young Jason's Experiences. Becky had received a call from her friend Rhonda when we were together, and that planted the idea in my head that Becky would have some friends possibly as gorgeous as herself. After Becky and I parted ways, I felt so satisfied and I just hoped that she felt the same way. We both agreed that we would have to get together again, and the thought that she had enough fun to want more in the future made me feel great.

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Darcy stared at herself in the mirror with disgust. Despite the one-piece, well-fitting bathing suit she wore, she was still critical of herself. She was still a very attractive woman in her mid-forties, but a little curvier then her petite frame suggested. She stood 5' 3" and had what some would say a little extra baggage around her hips and thighs.

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God! What a sight. I was sitting on the edge of the Franklin's king size bed, my legs were spread wide and my semi hard cock was lying across Mrs. Franklin's face, as she sucked my balls. "I've gotten used to this cock, Chris. I'm going to miss it." She laughed when I croaked out a simple, "Yeah!" Her head bobbed lower and she ran her tongue through my ass crack, circled my anus, before catching my left ball in her mouth and sucked again.

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NIGHT OF THE PARTY Steve felt Randi's legs tighten around his waist as he slowly pounded his long, hard shaft into her wet tunnel. At nearly twice his age, Steve was amazed at the stamina she showed in bed. A petite mother of two, with long blonde hair and stunning blue eyes set above sharp cheekbones, Randi was in tremendous shape with a slim waist and slender legs, her breasts, while small, were still pert and firm.

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Mariah walked out of the office feeling extremely self-conscious. She'd never once in her life imagined that she'd have to accept public assistance, but circumstances had forced her to do exactly that. After losing her job and having no luck finding another one, her savings had run out, leaving her little choice. Her family was helping, but it was barely enough to pay the rent and utilities, and she couldn't bring herself to ask for more.

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The cleaning girl, Monica, had arrived early on Friday afternoon. "Good afternoon, Ms. Stephens." Monica said. "Please, call me Jennifer." Opening the door to her two thousand square foot home, the tall, statuesque woman smiled at her cleaning girl. The eldest daughter of a neighbor down the street, Monica had grown into an incredibly sexy young woman. Jennifer shut the door behind her and stared dreamily at the young woman, shaking her head slightly.

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ONE "AAAAaaaahhhh!!! Jesus!!!!" Candace moaned softly before biting her lower lip. She was bent over her large executive desk as Marcus pounded his long, thick shaft deep into her wet pussy. His hands were under her skirt, wrapped around her slim waist, her tiny panties stretched tightly between her ankles. Candace felt her breasts swinging beneath her and her stiff nipples were rubbing across the top of the desk.

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Damian paused at the edge of their territory and took a quick survey of the area. The conditions were right for the kind of prey he was after. The lighting was dim; the music gave a feeling of class. There were drinks being sold but nobody was uncultured enough to be drinking beer. A slower detailed look revealed that while there was a group of four sitting around a table lightly chattering most of the crowd was sitting alone or in pairs and all of the singles had roving eyes. It was time to throw out a little bait and see what happened.

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Liz sighed, watching an especially amorous young couple who had obviously forgotten they were on a public beach. He was gorgeous, and as much as Liz would have liked to live vicariously through the redhead he was pawing for a few minutes, she blew her whistle anyway. The pair looked more than a little embarrassed when they finally realized after the second tweet that the whistle was meant for them.

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When she crossed over I-80, Nancy snuggled her lean frame into the soft leather that was wrapped around the driver's seat and kicked off her heels. The countryside and farms blurred beside her and she day-dreamed as the car continued its course, almost on autopilot, down I-57 towards Champaign, Illinois. She enjoyed these drives. They represented the only time during the week when she could shut down, block out the irritations of her life.

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