Your erotic stories

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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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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I suppose it's a sign of the times, as well as a testimony to my advancing age, but as the divorced father of a 19 year old boy, I'm constantly amazed at the things these kids send each other through their e-mail. These guys tell girls to send pictures of themselves in various stages of undress, or even stark naked, and these girls actually do it!

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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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The white cotton fabric of her panties made a scratching sound as it rubbed hard against her pubic hair. Wet heat was penetrating the only barrier to the pussy I had dreamed about since I was sixteen. The situation had deemed it necessary for hard, rough kissing. Our tongues were battling, roughing the other up, our mouths had become instruments for something other than verbal communication; instead it was a primal and taboo language we were speaking.

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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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"Why aren't you having sex with Trevor?" asked Jen during lunch with her best friend. "If I had a housemate who was: a good looking guy, with a big cock, knew how to use it and liked to eat pussy .... I'd be fucking him two to three times a week. Maybe even two to three times a day on the weekends!" "You're such a slut!" replied Tina, laughing. "Believe me I've thought about it ever since I broke up with Steve two months ago.

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Hello. I've been hoping for a chance to tell you this story. My name is Andre, and I'm a city planner for a small town out west. I love my job, but every now and then I need a major break from the pressure. Maybe you know the feeling. What works best for me is to get out into the wilderness, where the loudest noise is the breeze in the pine boughs, and time runs much more slowly.

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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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