Your erotic stories

It was just past closing time as I looked through the shop window with great interest in the quiet side street I found myself on. I had the night to kill being away with business and had gone for a walk around the town's small streets before I went for something to eat. It was filled with corsets, girdles, suspenders and bras, all for the more middle aged but discerning lady. A couple of torso dummies at either end of the window display showed some lacy attire that really had me thinking.

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Any time of change in one's life can be scary as well as exciting. Ron Matthews thought of this has he sat in his assigned chair on the football field, preparing to walk across the stage and receive his high school diploma. His father had always told him not to be afraid of the future but to embrace it. Still, it was going to be difficult going from an eighteen year old high school senior and all-star basketball player at Northville High School to an unknown freshman at Mid-State University.

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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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A new family had moved into our area this year and their son Danny Watkins and mine Alan had befriended each other, I didn't particularly like him, I couldn't quite put my finger on it but there was this feeling about him I didn't like. He seemed to be one of those bad boys to me, but he had never done anything to make the really unreasonable assumption I had of him.

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Jason stared at Marsha's ass as she leaned over the conference table in her office reviewing the ad layouts they'd been working on. Part of him was admiring her shapely ass, but most of him was still upset over the performance evaluation she'd given him yesterday. Jason was a 23-year-old artist, fresh out of art school, working for a medium size Ad Agency on the west coast.

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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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He sat in his favorite chair, on the back deck, enjoying the afternoon sun. He was feeling sorry for himself remembering old times with his ex-wife. Their union had not been the most exciting life experience. He, was however, looking forward to his ritual afternoon pleasure. He was on his fourth or maybe fifth beer when she finally made her appearance, his next-door neighbor who on any bright sunny afternoon made her ablutions to the sun god wearing nothing but a skimpy two-piece bathing suit. She was too young for him to guess her age, but he took a stab at it noting the maturity of her curves the width of her gorgeous hips and guessed between twenty-eight and thirty-five.

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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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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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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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