Your erotic stories

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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The following story depicts plenty of male and female bisexuality, plus several fetishes such as anal, spitting, cum swapping and smoking. If you are offended by the notion of sexual acts between two men please don't read this story. This chapter has been revised and expanded. More chapters will follow soon.

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It was a warm October afternoon where I lived in England. I left my house in the quaint little village where I lived and started to walk to the bus stop. It felt particularly odd today as I had no pram to push along and my hands felt bare because of this. I gave birth to Amelia three months ago. My ex-boyfriend (Amelia's father) had decided that we should part although it was an amicable parting.

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Ashley's mother got married again for the sixth time and she now had a stranger named Blake in her house. Her mother was 44 years old and throughout her life, she constantly changed the men that she had like changing the clothes on her back. There were numerous men in her mother's life and Ashley herself had no idea who her father was. She met her stepfather one morning when she woke up and found the man in the kitchen drinking coffee.

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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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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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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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