Your erotic stories

Mom was laying back in the pillows, leaning back on her elbows. I stood and gazed at her sexy loveliness; prefect body, sexy and nude, my mother. Lying there in the soft glow of the candlelight she looked like a classic Playboy centerfold, come to life; perfect. "So," she finally smiled seductively at me, "Is my handsome, studly son ready to actually fuck his own mother's juicy, wet pussy?" she grinned wickedly, her eyes dropping to my hard cock, bouncing with eager anticipation.

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"You okay?" I wiped a tear that was streaming down my face before turning toward the voice behind me. It was Jennifer who sat in the desk next to me at work. "I'm fine." I said. "You don't look fine." "It's my boyfriend. I found out he was seeing someone else and I just called him to tell him it's over. That's all."

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I love how today's older people complain that today's generation are all sluts. I mean, we are, but so were our parents and presumably our grandparents (although I'm not a big fan of thinking of grandma being a slut back in the day). The point is, although I wasn't a slut who fucked just anybody, I was very cock hungry when I was eighteen as was my best friend Kelly...although she was more of a fuck em' and leave them sort of gal.

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Sunday Morning in early March. I joined the regulars for coffee after a disappointing Saturday night; I hate to be part of a closing crowd, and so I'd left the Paradise Bar with fifteen minutes to go before the bitter end. It's my age, I suppose. As fine as I know myself to be at thirty-five, I just don't feel like competing at singles bars any more. So there I was, listening to the morning-after banter about the night before: Who did, who didn't, who got lucky, who got away.

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It was early April when I returned to the house I had spent my entire life in, up until the previous September. I had gone to college on the other side of the country and had been incredibly homesick for the small town I grew up in, a place I had hated until I had to leave. I missed my friends, my neighbours, my parents especially, and I was incredibly excited to see everyone when I got back home. Unfortunately, I was the first of my friends to finish my final exams at school, so I was back in town two weeks before most of my friends would be back.

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1 Robert Rappaport is not only the landlord of a very nice apartment building but lives in the Penthouse unit where he lived with his parents before their untimely disappearance. He inherited some prime income producing real estate along with it from his parents who vanished on a trip to Thailand a few years back when Robert was only 18. They had left him legally in charge since he was already quite savvy, having learned a great deal from his parents about investing and their business.

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My wife, Natasha, is Russian, and originally came here as a work exchange student. We fell in love her first summer here. She was a virgin, and I was her first. We kept in touch when she returned to her university, and she came back the next summer. We lived together that summer, and got married at the end of it! Our sex life was awesome from the start. But we are both very sensual people, and a dispute arose.

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My name is Angeline Currie. You won't find that name in any history of Hollywood. In all the movies in which I starred from the '40s to the '60s, and the character roles I played in movies and on TV in the twilight of my career, I was billed quite differently. Not even my agent knew my real name but, trust me, if you heard my professional name you'd certainly know it.

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Finally, my years of frustration, desire and wanton lust to have a cock between my lips was at hand. Here I kneeled, the dripping pre cum just inches from my lips. It was made all the better by my beautiful wife gently rubbing my asshole with one hand and stroking my cock with her other.

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To my amazement he took his dick out of his shorts and began stroking it, an enormous long thick snake capturing my attention. I tried to look away but had never imagined anything like it and my eyes kept returning.

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