Your erotic stories

Mr. Peterson, or Mr. P for short, had been my neighbor for more than twenty years. He was in his late sixties but you wouldn't have known it by looking at him. He and I always had a good relationship even though, when I was married, he and my ex-husband seemed to irritate each other at times. His wife had died some years back, before my ex and I had divorced, and he admittedly found himself very lonely and depressed at times. I took it upon myself to go over and provide him with some occasional companionship and just make sure he was doing ok.

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My wife told me there was a family get-together and I needed to attend. I normally hate these affairs and try to slip out early. These people were not my blood relatives and I didn't know too many of them. I arrived on the day in question and found a seat in the pavilion that had been rented. No sooner had I sat down a group of people arrived.

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I had seen him around the halls a few times, but he had only smiled weakly at me and glanced at the ground. For the longest time I didn't even know his name. I assumed he must be an adjunct professor at my prestigious graduate school; he dressed professional, and his silver hair was a clue to his age bracket. For the life of me, I do not understand why he was so intriguing. He stood about six feet tall, and his body-type was that of a wrestler or rugby player;

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I had not been a widow long when I met my first lover and love instructor. However as good as Don was he was not a complete lover because he was sometimes limited in the erection department. He was ill and this ailment some times kept him from becoming fully erect. But he was still very good and he brought me a long way up the sexual latter. When this happened; this story I am about to tell you I was ready for it because I was being taught that sex and lust were simply fun and love could come later.

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I was feeling good because I had gotten off early from work. I was the assistant manager of a shoe store in a mall and I worked a very irregular schedule. I had worked four hours today, and at one o'clock I was off for the day. I was driving home, and on the seat beside me was a small paper bag with a gift in it for my wife, Linda. Light blue nylon stockings. They were really a present for both of us because I liked stockings and my wife liked wearing them for me. A perfect match.

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I received a certified letter requesting my presence at the law offices of Wiggins & Sloan in Albuquerque, New Mexico for the following Monday. I had no idea why a lawyer would want to meet with me, but I cleared my schedule for the day to attend. The day of the meeting I arrived and was asked to wait until Andrew Sloan was available. The pretty receptionist offered me coffee, but I declined, butterflies flitting around my stomach at the idea of this type of meeting.

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Gloria was glad she finally convinced her husband, Gary, to visit their old friends, the Porters in Orlando. Oh, Gary could be an old curmudgeon, sure enough. Everyone knew that. But even he admitted it would be nice to see the Porters again and Gloria was looking forward to seeing the Potters' daughter and son-in-law at the same time. They lived in a nice old home (or so she heard) right on the beach and they would be hosting Gary and Gloria during their stay in Orlando.

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I couldn't keep my eyes off of the elegant older woman sitting in the top row of the bleachers at the matinee of the ritzy horse fair. I also couldn't help but notice that she was making a less than subtle production out of lowering her designer sunglasses and looking me up and down, smiling in a cat-that-wants-to-swallow-the-canary way. Younger women, or at least women who were my age, didn't begin to know how to smile like that.

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Ted was in a rush to get back to the apartment and get out of there before Greg got home. He should have taken his time. Greg was there waiting for him. "Trying to get out of the bet, Ted?" Greg taunted. "Of course not," Ted lied. The bet was one of those stupid things the two of them (along with several of their friends) were always setting up. Although the bets were for the most part somewhat stupid, the pay-offs were always seriously moronic.

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I am a retired man in my 60's, and I live in a suburban neighborhood of a small west-coast city. I live with my best friend Ralph. No, not what you think. Ralph is my dog. He is a lab mix, about 60 pounds, and a real rascal. I take Ralph on a walk twice a day to the Neighborhood Park, where dogs are allowed if they are on a leash, and well behaved. The park is full of people with their kids, and some other people with dogs.

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