Your erotic stories

A new family had moved into our area this year and their son Danny Watkins and mine Alan had befriended each other, I didn't particularly like him, I couldn't quite put my finger on it but there was this feeling about him I didn't like. He seemed to be one of those bad boys to me, but he had never done anything to make the really unreasonable assumption I had of him.

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Denise Hallowell was brushing her long brunette hair in the front hallway mirror. Her friend Jessie was chastising her as they looked at each other in the reflective glass. "Denise, you are such a bitch!" Jess Crawford, Denise's best friend, shook her head disapprovingly. "You know your dad's still hurting. Why do you say things like that?" "It wasn't so bad, Jess." In a backhanded sort of way, Denise agreed with Jess. "But just the thought of that cu... bitch! She fuckin pisses me off.

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He sat in his favorite chair, on the back deck, enjoying the afternoon sun. He was feeling sorry for himself remembering old times with his ex-wife. Their union had not been the most exciting life experience. He, was however, looking forward to his ritual afternoon pleasure. He was on his fourth or maybe fifth beer when she finally made her appearance, his next-door neighbor who on any bright sunny afternoon made her ablutions to the sun god wearing nothing but a skimpy two-piece bathing suit. She was too young for him to guess her age, but he took a stab at it noting the maturity of her curves the width of her gorgeous hips and guessed between twenty-eight and thirty-five.

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It wasn't that I didn't like my dad, it was just that I thought he was kind of a buffoon. A buffoon that had got real lucky, but he was the kind of guy who never realized it was luck that got him to where he was. It was Dad's good fortune to be at the right place at the right time and by a series of coincidences end up married to a woman who was far superior to him in just about every way.

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Ellie Carson was a fifty six year old woman who owned the neighborhood flower shop, or as she was fond of saying, the shop owned her. It was all she had to show for a lifetime devoted to a husband who had left her years ago, and she kept opening the door everyday out of habit pretty much because she had no place else to go.

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Damian paused at the edge of their territory and took a quick survey of the area. The conditions were right for the kind of prey he was after. The lighting was dim; the music gave a feeling of class. There were drinks being sold but nobody was uncultured enough to be drinking beer. A slower detailed look revealed that while there was a group of four sitting around a table lightly chattering most of the crowd was sitting alone or in pairs and all of the singles had roving eyes. It was time to throw out a little bait and see what happened.

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It seems that everyone wants more stories about my affair/relationship with John. Luckily there is not a shortage of encounters to write about even though our sexual relationship was quite brief, lasting not even a year. The following story takes place in Durham, NC where he lived during this time. Being the horny, middle aged woman I was, sex was not far from my mind. I knew that he, being a young man in his early twenties, was always thinking about sex. My car ride to Durham was filled with lusty thoughts that completely took over my mind and body.

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Sarah looked around her suite at the island resort. It was luxurious, with marble in the bathroom and a balcony looking out to the ocean. She unpacked quickly then she lay on the double bed and stared at the ceiling with tears in her eyes. This was the bed she had been going to share with Roger, her fiancée until two months ago when he had called off their marriage.

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The only reason that I moved into the 'Assisted Living Community' at all was so that I wouldn't become a burden to my grandson, Jeffery and his family. I had just turned 80, and hell I knew there were things I just couldn't do on my own anymore. I had always sort of thought that when I got to be too old to be self-sufficient, that I would buy a one-way ticket to the Himalayas; go on a trekking expedition and quietly slip away onto some glacier.

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Sometimes you need to search far and wide to find those things that inspire you. Finding two wildly passionate minds that love to mix the creative process with erotic adventures is priceless. I happen to travel quite frequently due to my work. I always enjoy visiting new towns and cities that are sprinkled across the landscape.

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