Your erotic stories

So many times as a child, then a young man, I walked the few short miles down to the small hill. There was a tall chain link fence at the bottom of the hill, I could have climbed that but I never did. On the hillside was soft grass, the type that never gets really tall, and it is always green, even in dry periods. I never did know what kind of grass that was, at that very young stage of my life I never even thought of it.

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Fred awoke lazily the next day with the sun shining through his bedroom window. He immediately knew that he must have overslept because it didn't get light in Spain at this time of the year until almost eight o'clock. Nevertheless he still luxuriated in his bed. He turned over and took hold of his firm erection. Fred slept naked, always. He pushed his light covering off and peered down at himself, admiring his thick hard dick.

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Fifty is such a daunting number. Half a century and it seems just yesterday when I was young and the world was new. I sit alone in a crowded bar nursing my third bourbon and coke as music blares around me drowning the sounds of younger people chatting and laughing. Today I am still the 'right' side of that psychological figure. I am forty-nine, but it is the eve of my 'Big 50'. It is only a number, I keep telling myself but in the back of my mind a small voice is chanting in a child-like taunt, "oldie, oldie, you are an oldie..." over and over.

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Nervous! He asks me if I'm nervous. Of course I'm nervous! Wouldn't you be? "A little, Kevin," I tell my husband. "But you're going to go through with it, right?" "Probably," I admit. If he only knew. I can't wait for this, for the past two weeks I've thought of little else. Affairs are one thing, this will be something altogether different, it seems to me.

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"George, are you awake?" The drugs had eased the pain, but they made me groggy, too. My eyes opened, and she stood there, looking sad and yet, concerned. "Honey? Did I wake you?" My mouth was dry. I rasped, "No, just resting." She came up closer, by the pillow. "I'm sorry to bother you. I just wanted to see how you were doing. I'm sorry, I'm John's mother, Lorraine. I'm sure you don't remember me."

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Mariel Archer stared out the front window of her attractive two-story home as her husband, William (not "Bill", too informal) slowly walked down the manicured sidewalk to his car. He was 65 years old now and really didn't need to work any longer (house was paid for, kids all off on their own) but he didn't believe a person should take up space on the planet without working to pay for the privilege. That was William.

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Hi, my name's Ronni Brady, and I'm a feature writer with New York Eye, the internationally renowned humorous news and current affairs magazine. I'm known for my acerbic wit and laconic style. You may have heard of me – I also have a regular newspaper column that's syndicated across the country, and I've been a regular guest on shows like Letterman and the Late Late Show over the years.

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It was going to be a long day, as Saturdays usually were. The weather was beautiful outside, which made me all the more bitter for being stuck at work. Library patrons always seemed more demanding on Saturday afternoons and doubly so on nice ones. They'd simply wave and beckon on me to attend to their needs. A dude has a to have a pretty strong stomach to deal with some of these people. The homeless people and the whores are always hooking up in this place.

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As the pontoons of the seaplane separated from the calm waters of the small harbor, two sentences of Uncle Frank's parting conversation echoed through my head - "Are you sure?" and "See you in a month." All of a sudden I felt more alone than I'd ever felt before. A tear rolled down the side of my nose. I waved until I could no longer see the plane.

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"Why is Gopal not to be seen these days?" My husband had asked once last week. I didn't answer and instead quickly diverted him to some other topic. Somehow, I have been cursing my beloved husband all these days for deciding to leave all the luxuries of Mumbai and settling down in a rather smallish town in the southern most part of India. He wasn't willing to let the lucrative offer go and jumped to grab the new job in a windmill power generation company.

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