Your erotic stories

Hello! I am a 45 year old male. I am the youngest of 5 children. My parents are in their 70s. I have been involved in the swinging lifestyle for over 15 years. I play with women and couples and am bi with couples. I have been living in the Seattle area for the last 20+ years and most of my family, including my parents live in the Portland, Or area. I live close enough to my family to get together for holidays, birthdays, etc but far enough away that I can still maintain my privacy and live my life without their interference.

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I was a war baby. My father had volunteered for the army as soon as he was 17 and my mother had sent her boyfriend off to war with a smile on his face. I think it was one of his greatest regrets that he never got his chance at Herr Hitler as the war ended while he was in training. It was while he was in training camp that my mother wrote and told him she was pregnant with me.

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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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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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"Write me a story," my lover says, her eyes glinting with deep, sensual desires. I kiss her, savoring the warmth and wetness of her mouth, as I say, "What shall I write, my love?" She smiles at me wickedly, her hands fondling my growing erection. "Something – naughty," she replies, her voice low and soft, caressing me like velvet. "Something – forbidden..."

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When school started three months ago I had to start staying at daddy's house during the week. Since my mom and him divorced almost 8 years ago my brother and I usually just spent every other weekend with him and two weeks in the summer. That was the agreement at least until I was accepted at a prestigious prep school that was much closer to his house than my moms. At first it was a bit awkward with just me and Daddy there, I always had my brother to act as a buffer between us.

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It's Dayna's fault again. It's Dayna's fault that I'm up at 3:30 in the morning on a Thursday, struggling to keep my eyes open, nursing a bourbon, sitting in my office. That girl is nothing but trouble. I've raised three kids now and two of them turned out fine. Julie is in med school, dating a handsome venture capitalist who knows exactly how much to kiss up to me. Tommy is a little bit of an introvert, but studying computer programming at MIT is an achievement that makes me proud of him.

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When I was 18 years old, in my senior year at a Catholic school for girls, my dad caught me on the street with my parochial school uniform's skirt pulled up a few extra inches so that it uncovered my legs to get the attention of boys. A lot of girls at my school did that after school. He is very strict. He is Sicilian.

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"You don't think it's a big deal that you fucked your own brother?" was all Sarah's mother could say. The moment the sentence left her mouth, she realized how absurd it was. Sarah rolled her eyes, "It wasn't like that! They were just hookups. We followed the rules. It is NOT a big deal!"

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I was having the sweetest dream. My wife was giving me the best blow job I've ever had! Then I started to wake up and realized that it wasn't a dream! Her soft lips were working my cock like never before, and this time she was having no trouble taking all seven inches.

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