Your erotic stories

Over the years lots of things had changed in my life. Marriages had begun and ended, kids grown up and left home, houses bought and sold, eyesight got worse, and my once fit body betrayed me. Here I was at 61 with only one vestige of my youth, my sex drive. And, because of medical problems, I couldn't get a hard on to save my life.

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I have never really adjusted to the intense thrill of rotating my practically naked hips in front of a woman staring avidly at my hard eight inch cock, damp in the piss hole by now, her eyes riveted on it as it swayed there, an inch or so from her lips. The heavy beat of Ravel made me surge slowly but lewdly, the moment capturing me as much as her, and I knew she would give me the grand finish to my act when her tongue flicked out toward it.

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I have always had a yen for mature and older women. This was particularly true during my younger high testosterone years. As I have grown older, the age gap of interest has narrowed if only because women older than myself at this time of my life, are often no longer interested in arousal. I don't know what triggers my erotic interest in any particular woman. Physical appearance is not necessarily significant although beauty can be a catalyst.

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Being thirty and already developing a beer gut, I began working out at the local gym. And since I worked nights, the equipment was readily available, which was cool. No crowds. After a month or so, I got to know some of the regulars, mostly retired guys, some into their eighties, God bless them! Mostly it was just to say hi, but a few became as regular as clockwork, so I sort of bonded with a guy named Abe.

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Everybody has their first times. For most of my peers, it was with a girlfriend, or just some chick at a party. But for boys like me -- awkward, gawky, cute and complete buffoons -- first times are perhaps even better than a fumble in the back seat of a beat-up car past 11 on a school night. I was a late bloomer. But by the summer of 1990, I had come into my own physically. Much of my chubbiness had disappeared into a taut physique. And for the first time in my life, I looked good in form fitting pants.

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It might have been the eleventeenth of Octembruary for old Jack. At 76 he sat in his living room looking out through the panoramic window for his carer, a younger woman of 32 who would soon be there to ensure that he was washed and properly dressed. What was it she had said, something about it being a special day today? He had no idea, one day being no different from the next or last. She had been coming to see to him for more than four years now and he always welcomed her.

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"Your Mom's pretty hot," I whispered with a smile, nudging my girlfriend with my shoulder. I didn't see her roll her eyes, but I could just feel that look burrowing into my back, aimed right at my heart. My eyes were busy drinking in the aging vixen before me: 45 year old Deb Mason, 5'4", short gray hair, nice tight little farm-wife body. I could only hope that Meg would stay that good looking for the next 25 years, and my twitching cock was not in disagreement.

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What a day! Partly cloudy and in the low-80's, a perfect day for doing some repairs on my boat. Warm enough to wear cutoffs and a tee-shirt, cloudy enough to avoid getting the inevitable burn that precedes my mid-summer tan. I have the good fortune to own a house and dock on a beautiful lake, courtesy of a very generous lawsuit settlement. At age 48, I'm semi-retired. Now, instead of putting bad guys in jail, I'm a self-employed writer and photographer working out of my lakefront home.

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It was almost six p.m. shift change at the small local bar that has been my hangout for many years. I seem to only get there on Sunday evenings now. I shoot pool with friends, look at the strippers and stock up on fantasies for the coming week. One lovely, married dancer named Britney was responsible for a large share of them. She always worked Sunday evenings. Her life has been in turmoil for most of the last year. Every few times I see her I help her relax and get her off with my hands in the private corner.

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I was 18 and we had been fucking like rabbits. I had been home only 3 days since my return from MCRD (Marine Corps Recruit Depot San Diego). (AKA "Boot Camp.) My little girlfriend, the also 18-year-old "Katie," had been more than accommodating. I was definitely enjoying my first gays of freedom after the hardest 13 weeks of my life. Plus, she didn't mind at all my new body. I was now a 5'11" 165 lbs. Body of steel. Definitely worked off my baby fat.

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