Your erotic stories

The Chapman farm in the sleepy town of Clinton in upstate New York was a modest operation back in the late 60's, but while the family members did most of the work during the year, come harvest time they needed to hire some outside help. There were a number of such workers who made a circuit of the area farms each summer, usually going back to the same places each year if they had been reliable and did good work.

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"I don't understand," my neighbor said, her dark brown eyes wide open as she struggled to comprehend what was going on. What had started out just like the last few nights, an innocent game of rummy in the kitchen of her modest little apartment had changed dramatically in the last few minutes due to my actions and words. My words had come easy because they were what was going on through my mind even since I had met Tara a few months ago, but even though I was the one that said them I couldn't believe that I had actually said them aloud.

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Linda's mother had been spectacular, so much so that I practically forgot about Linda. We kept seeing each other, but when I was with her I found myself thinking about her Mom. After all, it was an competition of sorts. While the 18 year old Linda had the advantage of youth and was more classically attractive than her mother, Millie had experience and the fact that a 50 year old woman found me desirable was a boost to my ego.

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My girlfriend is a cyclist and on the last Friday of each month she goes on a protest ride in the city. It's supposed to encourage people to stop driving to work and ride bikes instead but all it does is make people angry. She doesn't mind and enjoys shouting back at people who tell her to get off the road and out of their way.

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Our flatmate Abby was back. She moved in last winter and we got on well together straight away. I felt the chemistry between us but before anything happened her scholarship came through and she went overseas to study. Now it was summer and Abby was back. She came through Thailand on the way home and looked tanned and fit. I sat in a chair and she sat opposite me on the couch, wearing a long blue hippie skirt that went all the way to the floor and a baby blue singlet.

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I take the bus to and from work as a matter of choice, but even though one of the reasons I use public transportation is to avoid the aggravation of driving during the rush hours, there are times when the bus can be just as annoying. Like last Monday, for example. For whatever reason, the bus was much more crowded than usual, and I was forced to go toward the back and stand up while hanging on the pole in the center of the aisle.

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My husband Mike, after claiming that I promised to let him find me another girl to have sex with, went at his self-appointed task with his typical enthusiasm. Amazingly, he managed to succeed. This at least showed me that I wasn't the only one who would do anything he asked. I always thought that he had some sort of power that enabled him to propose the most outlandish things to people and they would actually do them.

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When I was younger my dad got me a summer job working on Saturdays for Mrs Jones. She was a woman who had a property out by the river and my job was to help her do landscaping, cut back trees, lay pavings etc. The property was a bit run down and it was hard work. Mrs Jones was a bit of a hippie. She lived alone and I guess she must have been divorced because she never wore a wedding ring, even though everyone called her Mrs Jones.

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Ellie Barton looked up over the top of the latest copy of Birds and Blooms as the child passed by her patio for what had to be the third time this morning, and Ellie chuckled when she saw the kid's reaction to being caught looking in her direction.

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