Your erotic stories

I couldn't believe my luck – all my friends were going down to the beach, and I had to help my parents with a BBQ they were throwing. I had tried all the excuses I could think of but they weren't buying it. 'I've paid for you to study at University for 2 years Dan' my father said, 'it's the least you can do.' So I eventually gave in and agreed to help with the cooking and drinks.

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"Just look at the view from this place!" screamed the excited new associate. The balcony at the Metropolitan Theatre overlooked the multitude of rows of patrons shuffling to their seats, getting ready for the show to begin. "Get used to it," said Heather Franklin. "We're in the big league now." "And to think we're barely starting out at the firm," said her animated friend. "Did you see the signing bonus? It's more than everyone at our old place made put together."

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Damian paused at the edge of their territory and took a quick survey of the area. The conditions were right for the kind of prey he was after. The lighting was dim; the music gave a feeling of class. There were drinks being sold but nobody was uncultured enough to be drinking beer. A slower detailed look revealed that while there was a group of four sitting around a table lightly chattering most of the crowd was sitting alone or in pairs and all of the singles had roving eyes. It was time to throw out a little bait and see what happened.

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Ellie Carson was a fifty six year old woman who owned the neighborhood flower shop, or as she was fond of saying, the shop owned her. It was all she had to show for a lifetime devoted to a husband who had left her years ago, and she kept opening the door everyday out of habit pretty much because she had no place else to go.

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Recap: At 49, and widowed, I had been seeing a lady called Pat for some time, and was on the verge of sleeping with her for the first time. She had discussed my 'size' with both her daughters, one of whom I work with, and they had each decided (separately) to "Test Drive" me so their mother wouldn't be hurt. Or so they said. The night after these events was my first with Pat, and it went extremely well until......

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Denise Hallowell was brushing her long brunette hair in the front hallway mirror. Her friend Jessie was chastising her as they looked at each other in the reflective glass. "Denise, you are such a bitch!" Jess Crawford, Denise's best friend, shook her head disapprovingly. "You know your dad's still hurting. Why do you say things like that?" "It wasn't so bad, Jess." In a backhanded sort of way, Denise agreed with Jess. "But just the thought of that cu... bitch! She fuckin pisses me off.

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I really felt ashamed of myself. I knew I was slipping back into my old fantasy habits. A supposedly respectable married woman 39 years of age with this ridiculous fetish for dressing up in school uniform. It had been more than a fantasy during my early thirties with the two old priests and Sister Mary. I think my fantasy thoughts started in my mid twenties after I had married Derek.

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It wasn't that I didn't like my dad, it was just that I thought he was kind of a buffoon. A buffoon that had got real lucky, but he was the kind of guy who never realized it was luck that got him to where he was. It was Dad's good fortune to be at the right place at the right time and by a series of coincidences end up married to a woman who was far superior to him in just about every way.

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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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It seems that everyone wants more stories about my affair/relationship with John. Luckily there is not a shortage of encounters to write about even though our sexual relationship was quite brief, lasting not even a year. The following story takes place in Durham, NC where he lived during this time. Being the horny, middle aged woman I was, sex was not far from my mind. I knew that he, being a young man in his early twenties, was always thinking about sex. My car ride to Durham was filled with lusty thoughts that completely took over my mind and body.

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