Your erotic stories

This story is entirely fictional. ***** She was beautiful. Eighteen years old and stunning with her petite little body and long brown hair, just like her mother. When she was six years old, her mom had taken off with a friend of hers (whom I was always right not to trust) and she never looked back. She never called or asked about our daughter. She was just gone. It broke my heart but I got to keep Lacy.

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So here it was, Thanksgiving Day, and I found myself in a strange man's bathroom, with my pantyhose pulled down around my knees, my dress hiked up over my hips, and that strange man's cock sliding in and out of my pussy. Well, in truth, he wasn't a complete stranger ... he was my boyfriend's father and I had met him two hours prior. But I'm getting ahead of myself, let me start at the beginning.

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After the last submission – Timmy's Step-mother gets Supersized – got such a pounding (and not in a good way!), I thought I'd put one up for the incest purists. This one is a Daddy/daughter tale. The car breaks down close to Jonathon's destination. He walks the last mile to the cottage and finds his daughter nude in the garden.

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There were two levels of life in the year 2356, in the former capital cities. In one level you were wealthy and well off. Life was provided by high-paying jobs and low taxes. Life was one long game that you struggled to satisfy yourself with using sex or entertainment. The slave industry was alive and well, buying healthy eggs from the starving inhabitants of another life to clone new humans.

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I listen to a woman's voice singing in a language I have forgotten, drinking tea I can not name. In a place I can not pronounce. Yet for all that I spent years here. The air is full of the strange smells that are now as foreign to me, as I am to this place. Yet they are so very familiar at the same time. Haunting smells filled with old half-forgotten memories.

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He didn't move. He just sat on his girlfriend's bed and kept his eyes on her open closet. Eighteen-year-old Edward had only one thing on his mind. But his girlfriend would never accept it even if she was more open-minded than anyone else. The young black man tried to repress his temptation, but it always fought back and sought its victory. One look at Cheryl's beautiful red dress and he would do anything to wear it.

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Sam was on his way home. He worked odd shifts, not the standard 9a-5pm bullshit most other people had to work. So he was leaving in the early afternoon. During his drive home, like most other days, he called his daughter to check in on her. Amanda was 20, and lived with him while she attended college. They always had a very close relationship. They talked about everything.

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There are mornings when I awaken alone in the darkness, shoot a nasty glance across the bedroom at the alarm clock, and try to will it to silence. Of course, that does not typically work, so I am forced to get up and get ready for work.

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It's not easy being the parent of a teenager these days, especially of a teenage girl. They all want to dress like tramps and every time they go out to a party you're worried they they're going to get drunk or high, or worse. I like to think of myself as an involved father and I make sure to keep up on the trends kids are into these days. I remember being horrified when I read about "rainbow" parties and when those multicolored gasket bracelets were in the news I checked my daughter's wrists every time she came from her mother's.

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Andrew Weston was not a man to trifle with. Neither was Alison: his stepdaughter. It was as if they had been fashioned from the same cloth and they understood each other perfectly: often trying to outmaneuver each other in a game of one-upmanship. Both were self assured and attractive to look at.

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