Your erotic stories

I felt his hand slide up under my skirt and cup my right ass cheek. I glanced over my left shoulder and gave Dave an encouraging grin. I prefer to wear thongs, so I could feel the warmth of his palm against my bare flesh. I wiggled slightly against his hand, but not enough to make our party guests suspicious.

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The only reason that I moved into the 'Assisted Living Community' at all was so that I wouldn't become a burden to my grandson, Jeffery and his family. I had just turned 80, and hell I knew there were things I just couldn't do on my own anymore. I had always sort of thought that when I got to be too old to be self-sufficient, that I would buy a one-way ticket to the Himalayas; go on a trekking expedition and quietly slip away onto some glacier.

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Lewis Collins was taking stock of how much his life had changed in such a short space of time. Five months ago he had a loving beautiful girlfriend, and he still had. But now he had two other women in his life as well as his girlfriend, and they were all his! He was 19 years old and the world as they say was his oyster. It had all started on the day he and Cassie, his girlfriend, were stood in his bedroom window, she was behind him, they had been frolicking in his bedroom, and now she was stood at his back, balls in one hand, and cock in the other.

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Now that I am in my early thirties ...I find that I am saying things I don't believe come out of my mouth. Like the phrase, "when I was your age ...." can come out before I have a chance to stop it if I am talking to someone from toddler on up to young adult. It is at those times I almost think I sound like my grandmother. But last Saturday afternoon, I started a conversation with Kate, 18 year old girl who is wonderfully beautiful both inside and out.

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It was raining outside - a typical Amsterdam spring day with heavy grey cloud casting a chill gloom upon the city. A Little natural light was managing to find its way through the dirty, rain spattered windows as they rattled in their frames, carrying with it the luminous presence from the spring leaves on the trees outside that lined the canal.

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Ironically, it was my husband who noticed you first. As you climbed out of the pool in one of those frighteningly brief bikinis that the young of today wear and which put the fear of Christ up older women like me, he said. "God I thought that was Emma," referring to our niece. I looked up and saw this lithe, beautiful, impossibly slim, but femininely rounded young woman walking alongside the pool.

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My jaw was hanging wide open in disbelief as I set the phone down. "Oh my." I thought to myself. "I've got to share this with someone. My mind was racing through an internal address book trying to figure out who would be the safest person to share the juiciest gossip I had ever heard from the actual horse's mouth in my life.

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My name is Gabriela. No, it's not, but I'm not telling you my real name. I'm 29 years old. I was 29 last year too. I'm a professional girlfriend. My boyfriends' wives would call me a whore. My boyfriends buy me jewelry, clothing, pay my rent, my credit card bills, sometimes even give me shares in their companies or illegal stock tips.

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I don't know how long I had slept, when I was pleasantly awakened. Jennifer was softly running her hand up and down my thigh. As I awoke, I saw Jennifer's beautiful blue eyes gazing down into mine. They were sparkling with excitement. Her eyes drifted down as she drank in the sight of my nude body. Her gentle caresses continued as a look of passion and wanting started to fill her eyes. I had seen that look from many men, but never from a woman.

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"You need something, Maryann?" "Could I have something for pain?" Her voice was small and hesitant. "I'll check. If you can, I'll bring it and then let it take effect and then," Sharon Caswell, R.N., paused with a whimsical smile of her face, "we'll do your bath." Maryann Hollander sort of laughed and then groaned, "Sharon don't make me laugh, it hurts."

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