Your erotic stories

There is a lake bordering the Southwest side of my property, it's fairly large, and I have several hundred feet of shoreline, mostly trees and brush, with a few open areas. The rest of the lake is surrounded by National Forest, with the county road running along the western tip. Every so often campers will wander onto my land, so I make a habit of checking over that way weekly during the summer months.

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My boss, Mr. Adams, calls me a nanny. He's pretty old school about things so I just let it go. I prefer the term, au pair, because it sounds so much more exotic and important. Mrs. Adams is probably the one who has the best grip on reality. She just calls me her "help." I started working for the Adams' to help pay my way through business college. Then about three months into a graphics designer degree, I decided, "Fuck it."

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I was always amazed at how someone from my past unfailingly seemed to turn up on opening nights of exhibitions. It didn't seem to matter which city I was in, some old school friend, long lost family member or an acquaintance from the photography fraternity seemed to find the ads for my openings in the small print and turn up to say hi.

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Jan's thoughts drifted as she reined her horse to the right at the intersection. She did not know where this road led, but exploring her new "neighborhood" was on the goals of her long Saturday evening rides. She had just been transferred to this small West Texas town from Boston, and she had resigned herself to make the most of it. She had enjoyed riding in her early teen years, and since she now found herself living in a part of the country where everyone seemed to own at least one horse.

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It was early spring in DC. While my love life was hardly what I would call "on the skids", it had been lackluster as of late. One would naturally assume that the night club scene would be a meat market. To a great extent, it is. Night after night I went to various spots. My friends had gotten into the habit of telling me during this period that I was too picky or that I just needed a good romp to get out of my funk. I would laugh it off.

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Attending the cocktail reception welcoming the conference attendees was not at all out of the ordinary for me, as I always wanted to check them out before the opening sessions in the hopes that I might find a hot one to hook up with. In my early years of writing I had attended many such conferences as an attendee, for the past few years it had been on their dollar, as a paid speaker. I tried to do one or two of these conferences a year... picking my spots so it would be to a place I enjoyed visiting... and Newport Beach definitely ranked up there on my list of desirable places.

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A pit formed in my stomach. I felt like I had been punched. I stared in disbelief at what I had just read in the paper. Under the obituaries, it was all there: her name, her photo and the details of very full life. The memories came back. She was a part of my past; a good part. I reread her obit. I was alone on my back porch overlooking my garden of colorful flowers, native shrubs, and manicured trees. She had sparked my love for gardening.

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Television just wasn't cutting it. I couldn't get her off of my mind. I'd fallen right into the same routine I had every night. Beer and TV usually made me groggy quick, especially on a full stomach. One pull of a lever, and my aching feet were up and my hands were behind my head in the recliner. The same recliner where she had climbed into my lap without her panties and rode me like a stallion.

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She leaned against the cold brick wall, trying to defend herself from the three hoodlums. 'Leave me alone!' she yelled, covering her breasts with her left arm, while slapping away the many hands that were trying to go under her short shirt. 'All we want is some of that sexy ass, baby,' one of the punks said, trying his best to get a feel between her legs.

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Aaron moaned, head rolling from side to side on his pillow. His jaw was tightly clenched, as were his fists. He thought hazily that he must be bruising the soft, perfect pear curves of her hips, but he couldn't help it. He was dying. His cock was wedged tight in the hot clench of her no-longer virgin cunt and she was riding him, tits bouncing prettily, long red corkscrew curls springing and sliding over her lightly freckled shoulders. Her mouth was a lush rose bed of pleasure, lips wet and parted on harsh, hard, eager moans.

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