Your erotic stories

Disclaimer - This is a work of fiction and nothing more. Enjoy the fantasy, but keep it away from reality. Also, all characters in my stories are 18 years of age or older! The term 'teen' can refer to somebody who is 18 or 19 as well. --commercial begins--

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Zoe sat at the kitchen table across from her brother, and as their parents got up from the table, the conversation turned to sex, as usual. Zoë and her brother Ryan were very close. So close, in fact, that they would openly walk around the house half naked, and talk about their sexual experiences with each other as well. They were pretty much best friends. Ryan began telling Zoe about how his girlfriend was being a prude and that she would not give him sex when he wanted it. Ryan and his girlfriend were, after all, a young couple, and in Ryan's opinion, the two should be having sex almost every day.

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Father Flanagan slowly woke up as the morning light crept through the bedroom window. His head hurt. He looked around. That's not my dresser, he thought. And this isn't my bed. Where am I? Turning, he saw a woman lying next to him, on her side, facing away from him. She was naked, and had long blonde hair. She looked a lot like his late wife. Then he remembered.

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When Pete exited the plane he was hit with a near solid wall of hot, humid air. Suddenly the clothes he was wearing were uncomfortable. He had no baggage to collect. Only one twelve pound carry-on bag for a two week vacation. He was about to turn fifty and had never packed so light for a week long trip. He had everything in the bag that Marla had told him to bring.

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** All characters are 18+ ** I can't forget the day when I saw him for the first time. He was a little boy with a cute smile, brunette hair and very small, yet beautiful eyes. His little hand held my finger in a firm grip. Today, tears formed in Aunt Celina's eyes when nurse handed over the little boy to her. She gave a little kiss on his forehead and looked in his beautiful eyes; she was so happy and we were happy for her.

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"Debby Knut with the big old butt." The sound of that chant rings in my ears to this day. In kindergarten I realized that my butt was bigger than most other girls my age. Rather than I noticed, it was actually pointed out to me routinely by other children. "Debby Knut with the big old butt" was sung as I jumped rope while other girls just herd rhymes such as "My Mother told me." I hated having a big butt. Some of the African American girls had butts that resembled mine, and I began hanging out with many of them, in hopes of not feeling different.

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The summer after I graduated from college I crashed on my big sister Trish's couch for a few months. What else was I supposed to do? I had earned a bachelor's degree in anthropology, which translated to no money and no job prospects. She had a little house in the woods outside the town we grew up in, and she said I could stay there as long as I needed. She'd mentioned something about having a boyfriend, but I didn't realize until I got there that he was pretty much living with her.

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