Your erotic stories

Life certainly has its ups and downs as everyone can attest to. It just feels like my life has had more downs than ups over the past few years. For instance, my parents had been killed in an auto accident three years ago when I was twenty-three. A semi-truck had veered into their lane when the overworked driver fell asleep at the wheel hitting my parent's car head-on. The doctors assured me that they had died instantly, which was a blessing I guess.

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Glen Potter was about to have a day that would rock his world. Something was about to happen that was so sudden, so unlikely and unexpected that even when he got home that night, he still couldn't quite get his head around it. He had started a window cleaning round when he lost his job with a firm of builders for 'borrowing' a couple of bags of cement.

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I had not been a widow long when I met my first lover and love instructor. However as good as Don was he was not a complete lover because he was sometimes limited in the erection department. He was ill and this ailment some times kept him from becoming fully erect. But he was still very good and he brought me a long way up the sexual latter. When this happened; this story I am about to tell you I was ready for it because I was being taught that sex and lust were simply fun and love could come later.

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"Have you guys seen Ms. Evans?" "Yeah, she looks even hotter. I mean, man, she was hot before, but NOW ... FUCK, what a MILF!" Another student ran up to join his two friends. "What are you guys talking about?" The Cindy-haired youth wanted to know. "Ms. Evans." "Oh yeah, although I heard she's divorced now and she's gone back to being Ms. Silvers."

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We'd met several times in our local pub on a Friday night. There were various couples used to come down to listen to the live music, and we'd exchanged a few words and smiles now and again. So we kind of knew them. They were in their forties, a bit younger than me and my wife, but I what most attracted me to them was her gorgeous breasts, and the way she always seemed to show off in tight sweaters and cardigans. Sometimes thick and chunky, other times soft, like angora. But always so sexy!

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It was raining and we still had nine or ten miles to go down the long glen before reaching a road and the dubious chance of a bus. I and two mates were backpacking in the Scottish highlands in our first university vacation. We'd bagged a couple of Munros, slept in a bothy, waded a few rivers and almost run out of food. We were sweaty, footsore and tired.

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I kissed my wife good-bye. Then I watched as the car pulled out of the driveway of our beach rental with her and my sister. I didn't waste time before I pulled on some swim trunks and headed down to the shore. I made my way across the street and up the public access out to the beach. There was nearly no one around as made my way across the sand. It was no wonder, the waves were pounding hard on shore and the water was still too cold for swimming long this early in the season.

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Eighteen months had passed since Jack Trengate and his wife, Sherri had become swingers. First with their long-time friends, Glenn and Wendy then James and Valerie were added, a black couple they met at a party. The three couples met at each other's home once or twice a month and everyone looked forward to the encounters. Jack had long overcome his initial concern of seeing Sherri with other men and looked forward to watching her with Glenn and James.

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I was waiting for Marg to get ready for our much-awaited date with our good friends Nels and Judy. When she did appear I almost choked on my wine. My wife is an attractive woman and I have always enjoyed seeing her prepare for a night out. But this was not the regular Marg. She was wearing a short pull-on dress made of the flimsiest material imaginable. She was not wearing a bra but apparently was wearing a thong.

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A torrent was falling straight down in lazy sheets. It was the heart of rainy season, and Mother Nature showed truth in advertising. I would have just stopped right there on the trail to wait it out had it not been for the fact that it would have resulted in being stuck on an unmapped "road" -to use that term loosely- after sundown. Driving in the dark through the jungle was a good way to get stuck in the mud or, worse still, a flash flood.

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