Your erotic stories

Pt. 1 - The Rehearsal Dinner So far it was a very lovely dinner party. Krista sat at the table with the others, her legs crossed. She slowly brought the glass of champagne to her lips as her eyes danced about the room. She looked over at her mother, Karen, sitting there looking nearly lifeless, a former shell of her energetic self. Krista smiled, knowing all to well, and proudly she might add, that she was responsible for the woman's lack of energy and near lack of a will to live.

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It was a crisp, late November evening in Eastern Canada and we had just driven for an hour through back roads to our remote hunting site. My father-in-law, Edward, parked the truck in a tightly overgrown drive way of sorts, under cover of some trees. The rest of the way to the little cabin had to be by foot, and not just because the driveway was impassible, but because, "Deer don't like the smell of a warm, old pickup," at least that's what Edward would say. Ed was short and stocky and "rough and tough" - a label he'd give himself with a twinkle in his eye.

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It all started with a simple statement. A promise perhaps. They were laying in bed one night during the week after she had just come off of his lap from one of her good girl spankings and rewards she always craved. She looked up at him, a smile across her face and at that moment, he told her that he had something special planned for them this weekend.

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Since the semester began three weeks ago, I haven't seen my dad. My parents' house was a 90-minute car drive away -- close enough to consider a spur-of-the-moment trip every now and then, but too far to do it too often. Classwork was keeping me really busy, too.

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John Harrison had not enjoyed the best of days at work. His boss had been acting like a tyrant, he'd spilled coffee on his shirt, the sandwich shop got his order wrong and sent him Ham instead of Turkey. He wanted to get home, open a beer and relax. He walked in the three bedroom apartment he shared with his daughter, Penny, and there it was.

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I lay in my dad's arms, still woozy from what just happened -- physically and emotionally. My free right hand reached for his arm, and caressed the knots of muscle that roping from the shoulder to the elbow. It struck me then, that there was something about an older man in peak physical shape that I found desperately attractive. Of course, he owed this fact to his job as a conditioning coach -- but there it was all the same, this frame of capable limbs, narrow waist, and a big, brutish chest.

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I use hook-up apps as a way to travel I suppose. I don't have the luxury to flit about the globe taking selfies with landmarks, so more often than not, when I get to chat up a guy, I'm dipping my toe into a completely different life. To a degree, if and when we hook up, I become a different, more adventurous guy. And perhaps, ashamedly - when I'll leave town, there's no looking back.

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He had hoped that by taking a long, hot shower that he would somehow be able to shake off, or at the very least reduce, that dreadful feeling of shame that had overcome him that night, but as was to be expected — it did not. He still felt dirty and had only found that feeling getting worse and worse by the second.

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When you start writing a fiction story, it's fun to think about where to start. But when you're writing a true story, especially one with a lot of threads runnings through it, deciding where to start is really hard. There are so many strands involved in explaining the key event, and people won't understand you if you don't describe them well. They may even judge you.

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After the last submission – Timmy's Step-mother gets Supersized – got such a pounding (and not in a good way!), I thought I'd put one up for the incest purists. This one is a Daddy/daughter tale. The car breaks down close to Jonathon's destination. He walks the last mile to the cottage and finds his daughter nude in the garden.

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