Your erotic stories

Brooke II: Finding Allison entered the bedroom, reached for the buttons of her blouse and whispered, "Cool." The young woman strutted as if she owned the room. She peeled off her top and short denim skirt, and circled the bed in nothing but a dampened thong. Her blue eyes flashed and her straight brunette hair steamed behind. The lean body dripped sexuality. At that moment Allison did own the room.

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My friends always told me that my mom was a Milf. When I was younger, I used to feel embarrassed by this and I got into fights, even lost some friends. Over the years, I changed my mind, especially when my mom got divorced for the second time, and I was stuck taking care of my family like the man of the house. Playing the role of dad to two sisters, I began to see what my friends were seeing in my mother. I didn't tell her that, of course, and so I missed my chance for anything once she got remarried.

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My folks celebrated their 30 anniversary on Saturday with an evening at a posh restaurant, then home for a bit of nookie. (I know because I could hear them!) I think they thought I was out, as Mom was more vocal than usual. Sunday was spent relaxing as we all had an early start on Monday, Mom (50yrs)and I (25 yrs) were dropping Dad (51yrs) at the airport at 5 am, (He was away on a business trip for a few days.)

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I've been in a depressed mood lately. My husband has totally ignored me sexually for months on end. I know it is somewhat my fault. I have gotten heavier over the past couple of years. My husband always said he liked a full figured woman, but no longer it seems. It's Sunday morning and my husband went golfing with his buddies. I was in bed naked and rubbing my pussy. I hate to admit this, but I am thinking of my son, Tommy.

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"My name is Nario. You are Mr. Armstead?" "Yes. I was expecting my uncle." "He could not come. I am his boy." Yes, I'll just bet you are, I thought. But then he clarified, if not enough to make a difference to me. "I am his houseboy. Welcome to Naples, Mr. Armstead." "Call me Harry, Please. Is it far from here to Positano?"

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Monica woke, a heavy throbbing pain in her head. She smiled to herself as she remembered the sex. Her pussy was pleasantly sore and she could feel the dried up cum caked between her thighs; she smiled and stretched her body. 'God, that sex was incredible,' she thought reaching for her husband. It was with a little disappointment that she discovered his side of the bed was empty.

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Ann opened the drape and looked outside and everything was white. It took her back to her childhood when she eagerly anticipated the first snowfall. Oh, how she loved sledding, building snowmen, and snowball fights. Now the 37 year old housewife saw the snow as a nuisance; snow was something that made it difficult to drive and gave you a backache when you had to shovel it.

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It had been a real rough year for my big sister Debra. In the March she had lost her job, then in June our father sadly passed away in his sleep. Then in September she split up from her husband of five years Colin. It had been a pretty rocky marriage at the best of times, I never took to him and always wondered what she saw in the waster. Still my feelings towards him paled in comparison to his family's towards Debra – they hated her with a passion from the first!

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My wife's daughter came to visit for the holidays. It's a second marriage for both of us; she has two kids by a previous marriage, and I have three. Susan, her daughter, is in her late twenties and has never married. She's had a few close calls, but for one reason or another, things just never seemed to work out.

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"Do you remember me?" Peter Dovzhenko turned from his seat in the sand, where he'd spent the last hour watching the waves rolling onto the beach, when he heard the smoky, Slavic-accented voice of a young woman behind him. He found her standing 5'3", with dirty blonde, shoulder-length hair, her body lithe and fit like a gymnast's, her tiny, turquoise bikini covering pert little A-cup breasts just big enough to hold.

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