Your erotic stories

Esther Watson was lounging in her bath; she had never in her life felt as good, or as satisfied as she was right now. She had thought back to when she might have done, but if she had, then it was a long time ago. Esther was wallowing in hot water lashed with scented oils; he was downstairs making her coffee. It was almost 12 noon, she had just got out of bed, or rather, she had just been allowed to. He had been screwing her since 7am this morning.

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I was thrilled when I answered the phone. "Hi, Bruce, it's Sandy!" Sandy! Sandy had been a photography student for several years, starting when she was a freshman in high school, and all the way through. The summer before college, however, we had parted ways. I had thrown her out of my darkroom for acting irresponsibly, making appointments to print in my darkroom for a show she'd gotten at a local restaurant, and then not showing up. She left angry. I was heartbroken. She was now almost out of college, 22 and grown up. I hadn't seen her in four years.

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Needless to say, I was enjoying my hot times with "Grandma" Anna and "Grandpa" Frank. I called my real grandmother to tell her that I was extending my stay by a couple of days, maybe even a week. "Ok, baby," grandma said on the phone. "I miss you, honey. But it's ok. Patty DeLay's husband just died, so I'm spending a lot of time with her. But come home soon. I need you." I agreed and hung up the phone.

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There's just something about taking off a beautiful woman's panties for the first time. I slid my fingers under Laura's sheer, tiny black thong and she lifted her hips to accommodate the effort. She propped herself up on her elbows, and with one hand, reached behind her and unclasped the matching black bra, exposing her perfectly proportioned breasts, speckled with spectacular freckles, her pale pink erect nipples poking upwards like gumdrops.

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Fifty is such a daunting number. Half a century and it seems just yesterday when I was young and the world was new. I sit alone in a crowded bar nursing my third bourbon and coke as music blares around me drowning the sounds of younger people chatting and laughing. Today I am still the 'right' side of that psychological figure. I am forty-nine, but it is the eve of my 'Big 50'. It is only a number, I keep telling myself but in the back of my mind a small voice is chanting in a child-like taunt, "oldie, oldie, you are an oldie..." over and over.

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Fred awoke lazily the next day with the sun shining through his bedroom window. He immediately knew that he must have overslept because it didn't get light in Spain at this time of the year until almost eight o'clock. Nevertheless he still luxuriated in his bed. He turned over and took hold of his firm erection. Fred slept naked, always. He pushed his light covering off and peered down at himself, admiring his thick hard dick.

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It was a warm Saturday night in June. I was preparing for my best friend Tasha's graduation party and I'd chosen a short white sundress, one that that hugged my boobs and barely covered the top of my thighs. It was my last ditch effort to seduce her before we both left for college. With her beautiful cocoa skin, pouty lips and round curves, I hadn't been able to stop fantasizing about her for the last year.

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The living room windows in my house are best described as odd. In the first place, they are huge, there are four of them, each one is four feet by four feet. Nothing so unique about that except each one angles outward at the top at 45 degrees. When I leave the doors and windows open in the warm Summer months, that makes a perfect fly trap, they move up to the top and can't figure out how to get out.

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This story has been buried deep inside of me for a long time. I remember all of it very well, almost like it was last week. I've reminisced and re-lived it all many times over the years. Much of it is quite fun to remember. Some of it is bittersweet. Some of it is painful still. When I was out of college and in my early twenties I got a job selling radio advertising in a suburban/rural area, and although new to the region, I became successful in a fairly short time.

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Kara and I walked side-by-side down the long stone stairs away from the Court House. We and done the same thing for quite a few weekdays; she had been staying with me in my big five bedroom house for two months since David's bail was revoked for drugs and alcohol. His big, young, strong body did not swagger as much when the judge handed down seven and a half to twenty for Murder II. He had stolen my car, my deceased wife's wedding rings and killed a woman while driving under the influence.

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