Your erotic stories

Guy was a twenty-five year old washing machine service engineer who was mentally and physically marred by the scarring of adolescent acne. He was also thin, shy, and sexually frustrated, and was altogether the exact opposite of all that service engineers are supposed to be. His was not the life of continual housewife conquests and extended house calls no matter how much he wanted it to be, and on the only two occasions that he had made half-hearted advances to the ladies he had called on he had been rebuffed instantly, and threatened with being reported to head office.

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I still don't know exactly how I got myself into that situation. It may have been a bet, It may have been a dare, or it might be that I was tricked. The upshot of the entire affair is that I found myself with my neighbor's 18 year old son manhandling me and eventually fucking me senseless. Perhaps I need to start at the beginning with a description of myself and my marriage to Jim. We had been College sweethearts who married and have been together for 10 years this November.

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Dan spent last weekend up at his parents' house in the suburbs. It was one of those dead weekends. Many of his friends were out of town, working, or too tired to go out. On Friday before he left, he called Steve Morgan's cell phone again in one last ditch effort to try to get something going, but was greeted only by voicemail. He hung up without leaving a message, threw some clothes in a backpack, and drove up to his parents'.

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It was the Friday afternoon, before the Holiday Weekend, and I was driving the car to the ‘Biker Rally’ and ‘Rock Festival’, when I realised that I had a ‘slow puncture’. My husband, Craig, had set off earlier, on his new Honda 750. My mobile phone couldn’t receive a signal, so all I could do was sit by the side of the road; smoke a cigarette and wait for help.

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It was hot as hell, and I still had three more lawns to mow. It was the drawback to making most of my summer money doing yardwork. Graduation was only a few weeks behind me, and college and its expenses loomed ominously over my head. Fortunately, I was going to a local school, but I still had a commute, and books were going to kill me. Anyhow, I'd started early that morning, as soon as the dew was out of the grass, but after two yards already, it was just after noon and the sun pounded down.

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Wedding time. Not Dan's, of course, but that of Marc Chapman's sister, Belinda. Dan and Marc had gone to college together, and he had gotten to know the Chapman family well during the summer months. Though Dan and Marc did not know each other in high school, they did grow up in nearby towns; as such, they saw each other frequently when they were home from school.

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