Your erotic stories

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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Skyler pulled the truck over to the side of the gravel road and stepped out. He didn't have much of a cell signal to begin with, and he knew it was worse inside the truck. The call went through, and his father answered in a weary voice, "Hello?"

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Hello, my name Elden, and this is the story of what happened between me and my sister when our parents went away for the weekend. The first thing you need to know is, my family are peasants of Omnogovi province, southern Mongolia. The four of us—Mother, Father, Salva, and me—live in the small town of Aarbadesh, population twenty-thousand. I am nineteen, and my sister Salva is eighteen.

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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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Patterson and I had just ordered a pizza when his phone rang. He glanced at the Caller ID window and looked up as the waitress brought us a pitcher of beer. "Sorry, dude," he said. "I need to take this one. It's Mom." He looked away and lowered his voice as he turned his attention to the call. I tried to pretend I was suddenly interested in the clever "Go Tigers!" declarations hanging on the walls of Sal's Pizza.

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Her name is Donna, and she's a co-worker of mine who I got to know very well over the course of about a year. While I admit that the initial attraction was physical, when you get to be middle aged, there has to be more than that in order to keep your interest. Fortunately for me, Ross Browning, there was more.

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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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The time was 1995 and the place was a sleepy suburb of Albany, New York. He was a bored man in his mid-40s whose wife had taken off with another guy, leaving him with a house he didn't want and a lot of time on his hands - until he started paying attention to the sights around him.

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I heard the front door open and close, and my wife came barreling into the living room. I barely had time to take in her petite frame, muscular thighs, and small breasts before she grabbed me by the arm, pulled me up from the couch, and dragged me toward the bedroom. She was dripping with sweat — why on earth would a person go for a run in the middle of the day in August? — and as we passed through the bedroom door she said, "I need you to fuck me right now."

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Back in 1971, I was a rather naive 18 year old, but one summer afternoon I discovered a whole lot about human nature, as well as learning a valuable lesson. Never judge a book by the cover. It was mid-morning on a weekday afternoon. The sun was hot and with high school already a fading memory, I was doing what most of my crowd did that summer before heading to college, which was hanging out.

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