Your erotic stories

From the outside, the place was even worse than Rose had expected. The entrance to the long dirt driveway was hidden by pines and kudzu, and she drove right by it on the first pass. Once she was finally on it, her wheels spun, kicking up gravel and wet red mud from the recent rain. Good thing her Tercel had already seen its better day.

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NOTE: All characters in this story are 18 years or older. The term 'teenage' can still refer to somebody 18 or 19 years old! This story is pure fantasy. Enjoy!! Switch-On - Understanding Uncle --commercial begins-- Do you struggle with bad habits like smoking, drinking, or gambling? Does your spouse tell you he wants to clean, but constantly forgets? Do your kids constantly back-talk or struggle with their grades?

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Hot morning sun blistering one side of my cheek, along with the sound of a shrieking bird outside my window as I lay on my bed woke me up. I scrambled to the floor, forgetting for the moment, in my sleepy state, that it was Sunday and I didn't have to go to work. Looking at the clock on the bedside table I saw that it was eight thirty. I felt like going back to bed but habit got the better of me. Growing up, I had heard my late dad on numerous occasions speak on the virtues of early rising, claiming that persons who liked to sleep late got nowhere in life. I usually got up at around 5:45 to 6:00 am to start preparing for work.

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From the outside it looked like a nice upper middle class home, but in reality it was a studio for shooting porn. We, meaning my sister and I, were sitting on a huge white couch. My sister was wearing only a pair of red boy cut panties and a matching bra. She was wearing a bit more makeup than I was used to seeing her wear. With her shoulder length blond hair she still had that girl next door look, but the look was starting to edge toward slutty girl next door. I was wearing jeans over a pair of boxer briefs and a T-shirt.

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Kate stared at the clock. This had been a monumentally bad idea. Watching as the hand crept closer and closer, her dread grew with ever minute strike. That's why she should never, ever decide things while in the shower, she concluded. All manner of unreasonable ideas seem possible to her in there. When else would she have thought inviting her psychotic ex to her home would be a good decision? She shook her head.

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ONE Sean Lambert and his wife, Amy, were excited about their upcoming trip to a desert resort in Arizona. Over the course of their twenty year marriage, they had always tried to celebrate their milestone anniversaries in a big way. Sean's orthopedic surgery practice was well established so money was never an option.

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The parties that went on at 69 Brentwood Street were legendary. When Luke Prescott received the invitation email by Blackberry during his final year at NYU, he had high expectations. The house was a three-storey brownstone on the Upper East Side, and was being rented by three of the hottest girls in university. Kendra, Lacey and Chloe were commonly referred to around campus as 'The Babes on Brentwood.'

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Ramsay closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and unzipped her jacket. Her mother would have never let her leave the apartment had she seen how her daughter was dressed. The snug, low-cut camisole didn't quite conceal her lacy black bra; the hem of her plaid skirt fell several inches above her knees. Her black patent stilettos were decidedly of the "fuck me" variety. Ramsay peered down at her ample cleavage, watched it rise and fall as she struggled to catch her breath.

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Sunday Morning in early March. I joined the regulars for coffee after a disappointing Saturday night; I hate to be part of a closing crowd, and so I'd left the Paradise Bar with fifteen minutes to go before the bitter end. It's my age, I suppose. As fine as I know myself to be at thirty-five, I just don't feel like competing at singles bars any more. So there I was, listening to the morning-after banter about the night before: Who did, who didn't, who got lucky, who got away.

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I was at Steve's place having a beer and a chat; I heard the front door open, and the voices of Steve's wife Judy and daughter Becky came in. They had been out to measure up some things in a flat that Becky had bought. Both came in and I stood up to say hi, I receive the usual kiss on the cheek, and hug from Judy and then from Becky as well, as she said, jumping up and down, "Hi Bob, nice to see you, it's been a while, how you doin?"

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