Your erotic stories

*This is the 5th chapter of a story I began a couple of years ago and it's been over two years since I published the last chapter. Please let me know what you think and as always comments and suggestions are greatly appreciated. Thanks and enjoy!* Chapter 5 - Taming Sara

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Jessica Turner glared out of the window. She had been planning this day for months and then a sudden downpour had wreaked havoc on her plans. Her brother was back from college today after a solid 2 years of not seeing his family and Jess wanted to make this a day for him to remember.

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Growing up my sister and I had been really close. We were only separated by a year, so her and I were two peas in a pod. Then junior year of high school came around and I started seeing other guys, and my sister hit more of a standstill socially. She was awkward around guys, and actually seemed to enjoy her time more in the private confines of her girlfriends. I found it strange because most girls were looking to date, or at least find a guy to hook up with a practice on before college.

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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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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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"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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