Your erotic stories

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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The summer he turned 19, Reed traveled to visit friends on the coast. He had planned to crash with his buddies for the three weeks. However, his mother offered to help fund the trip if he stayed with her friend from school, Susie. She hoped the adult influence would moderate his behavior and curb his crazier teenage impulses.

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Chapter 1 I was laying on a chaise poolside one warm sunny afternoon, thinking about how much my life had changed in the last year. The changes had started with my coming home and finding Harry fucking his partner's wife in our bed. Well, you can imagine. It all hit the fan and I kicked his sorry ass out. The divorce was handled by lawyers, I had a real shark, sorry, guys, but the bastard deserved it and he has a hell of a lucrative business, so I ended up with a very nice settlement and ongoing alimony that lets me not work if I choose to do so. And, right now, that's what I'm choosing.

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Simon's hands automatically went to my waist, slipping low to cup my ass in his palms. I'd already pushed him past the point of no return, but he was still trying to reclaim control of the situation, feebly asserting his authority. "Amy—we can't," he said. "We said we wouldn't." Even if there had been conviction in his voice, the presence of his hands on my ass and the way his mouth opened against mine, his hot breath filling my mouth, made his true feelings clear. I felt a little guilty for pushing him, but not enough to stop.

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I had just finished a nice dinner and was walking back to the Bed and Breakfast where I was staying. It was still light and there was an orange glow in the west where the sun had set over the Pacific. I thought a glass of wine would be just the thing before turning in. Fortunately, the B&B had some available, honor system of course. That's what I like about them, so friendly, so trusting.

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Arnold Rasmussin, 42 year old, married white male, was very angry. Very angry. He was the senior accountant for United Foundations, Inc. and he had been passed over again when it came to the assignment of interns to members of the accounting staff. Arnold did not do anything about this. He didn't five years ago when the internship program was begun and he did not each year interns had been assigned since then.

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Prelude: "I'll be back in about half an hour, Rod is here if you need anything." I knew Erin's comment was meant more for her husband. Rod had suffered a stroke two years previous, and although he could get around, I had come to learn in the several weeks I worked for them he managed little more than pressing the garage door opener so I could get at their gardening tools. This summer I decided I would do what I loved for a change. We needed extra cash to pull ourselves out of debt, and I had done the shit jobs already, including overnight paper deliveries and scrubbing toilets.

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My name is Tanya, and I'm a chat room addict. It all started last year when I went on Facebook to reconnect with friends from all stages of my life. It was so much fun to find people and update each other on what had been happening in our lives. And that's when I started to chat. Chat really opened up the world for me. Faster and easier than a phone call. You could even chat while on the computer doing work or other stuff. Chat with friends all over the country and see their pictures. So I really got into it big time.

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Teenage boy's girl is left unsatisfied, leaving stepfather no choice but to stoke the fire himself. It was an early day for me. I'd left the client's office with a task list and intended on spending the next three or four hours at home, outlining the project. Depending upon the workload, and whether or not the client really needed me to do the work on-site, I'd often cut loose early and take the work home, where I could concentrate uninterrupted for the rest of the afternoon. This started out to be one of those afternoons, but transformed quickly into a day I'd remember for the rest of my life.

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I had a good job. I was the editor and part owner of a weekly newspaper in Waverly, Kansas. It was a town of about 1000 souls, settled after the Civil War by a group of pioneers from Ohio. In fact the main event of the year was a large gathering in a clearing on the edge of town and it was called Old Ohio Days. I had a good house, a modest three bedroom bungalow within walking distance of my job. I had two good children who had long-since grown up and moved away.

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