Your erotic stories

Candice sat in the corner, her foot tapping anxiously on the bar stool as butterflies performed stunning feats of acrobatics in her stomach. She watched the door as she sipped her fourth whiskey sour. Her head hurt, her heart hurt, but her resolve never wavered. In her mind, there was only one way to get even with her cheating fiancée.

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Let's start by describing the ladies in this story. Linda is a gorgeous 26 year old blonde. Big blue eyes and full " Angelina Jolie " lips. Petite body with wonderful 34c boobs. Flat stomach and a sexy round firm ass. My wife Sandra is a very stylish and beautiful 39 years old. Dark long hair and sensual brown eyes. Full 36c boobs topped by big round nipples. She is tall with the body of an athlete.

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"30 seconds until this lift is closed," called out the lift attendant as the two skiers made their way through the corral to board. Taking position, they sat down as the seat swung around behind them and shuffled close to one another as they brought down the safety bar. Glancing back, Dean noted that they were the last ones that got on the lift. "I guess this is the last run for the day then," he said, smiling at Beth. "Probably a good thing too given how cold it is, I don't want my dick turning into a popsicle!"

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Laura walked back to her house. Still smiling. Still warm. Still electrified. She never would have imagined kissing her friend good bye after the lunch date they just had. Not even to mention kissing her that way... Gail has licked Laura's lips. That was nothing like kissing her husband. It was nothing like she had ever felt. She decided that she would indeed have a terrific rest of the day off. When she went into the house, she set the security system. She certainly didn't want her husband walking in on her. As she passed the kitchen, she picked up matches and then continued up stairs.

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Vic stood alone in the bedroom, staring at the reflection in the full-length mirror as though taking notes. Dark hair, cropped close. Dark eyes, both by nature and by the distant look of loss in them. Full Mediterranean lips in an olive face. Torso covered by a black t-shirt. The leather jacket that went with it was thrown over a chair. Hips and legs clad in tight faded jeans that covered the tops of lace-up boots.

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I have a pantyhose fetish. There, I've said it. I've never flat out told this to anyone before. You mention any type, color, or style of pantyhose, and I've got it. And more than one pair of them too. I've loved pantyhose as long as I can remember. I like how sexy they are on me. I like how they feel against my skin.

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"Give it up Monica," Carla complained! "He's practicing his bah humbug routine early...no way is he going to tell us what he wants to be for Halloween!" True; but then, that sure didn't excuse her dragging Monica off my lap. And she did it just as Monica started to whisper something in my ear too. That wasn't the worst of it either; oh no, the darling flirt had finally let my hands push up under her sweatshirt! So my hands were sliding over the taught, feathery soft skin of Monica's belly; when, timing her tease to perfection, Carla had pulled her off my lap.

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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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The bookstore was crowded with last minute holiday shoppers. I stood in a long checkout line and finally worked my way up to the front and was able to pay for my items. I was purchasing a few last minute presents, as well as, a book for myself. The checkout girl scanned the bar code on my book, then looked up at me with a knowing smile after noting the title of the thick volume.

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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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