Your erotic stories

It was hot as hell, and I still had three more lawns to mow. It was the drawback to making most of my summer money doing yardwork. Graduation was only a few weeks behind me, and college and its expenses loomed ominously over my head. Fortunately, I was going to a local school, but I still had a commute, and books were going to kill me. Anyhow, I'd started early that morning, as soon as the dew was out of the grass, but after two yards already, it was just after noon and the sun pounded down.

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Jeanie waved goodbye to her two boys as her parents pulled away. She knew that she was going to miss them while they were gone for the weekend, but also knew that she needed the break. Unfortunately, that break wouldn't really start until she finished catching up on the housework. There were too many things that she'd put off, and she knew that she simply couldn't relax until each and every one of them was done. She tied back her strawberry blonde tresses, and went to work.

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It's funny, how as a kid you tend to see things so totally different from the reality in which they are. Only when you're confronted with those same memories years later do you really understand the misconceptions we all place on them. It was how I remembered Mabel, though back then as a kid, we all teasingly called her, Maybelline. Growing up right next door as a child, I very often made a little extra money back then doing odd jobs such as pulling weeds or mowing the lawn for Mabel and her husband, "Old man Jack" as we had likewise labeled him.

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Chapter One: My best friend's mother. "I swear Robbie, if you tell anybody about what I'm going to show you, I'll fucking kill you," Ted warned me, and judging my the veins bulging in his neck and the crimson color of his face, he probably meant it. The madman look was something that Ted had inherited from his father, a hothead who had abandoned ship many years ago, leaving Ted and his mother to fend for themselves while he went to make other people's lives miserable, I assumed.

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Tom With me being retired and Eileen working part-time in her own business it means we can take advantage of last minute holiday offers if they come our way. Just over a month ago I bumped into an old work colleague who offered me the use of his apartment in the "Food Capital of Ireland" for a long w/e. He said it might be quiet enough but the restaurants were good, the Guinness excellent, the pubs great crack and the golf courses challenging.

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Katherine stumbled out onto the uneven back stoop, audibly groaning under the weight of the heavy-duty trash bag. It was full of crumbled plaster and strips of wooden lathe and swung ponderously, threatening to pull her over with each uncertain step. As her foot slipped on the sloping stone slab she overcompensated and was forced to let the bag drop with a heavy crunch. Catching herself with a sideways grab at the door frame, she slammed backwards into the peeling paint of the old wood siding.

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