Your erotic stories

Perhaps one of the most sensual and erotic experiences I ever had occurred nearly twenty years ago now. But the memory of it remains with me to this day. Back then I worked with a woman named Lucille. I was in my early thirty's at that time, and Lucille was some twenty or so years older than I was. But the age difference hardly mattered between us, we got along famously, and I looked forward to seeing and working with her on a daily basis. At first there was nothing at all sexual even mentioned between us, she had a very 'rigid' upbringing, and things of that nature weren't easily discussed amongst coworkers anyway, especially between us.

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I call my friend's mom Mummy. Mummy wears only saree at home; Mummy never wears bra while at home; Mummy's figure is short, sexy, right size breasts and correct size ass. Her color is white and texture of the skin is amazing; she's actually around 50 years old but her body doesn't show the age. Her hair is pure black and she doesn't dye her hair at all. Since she was 37 till 48 she didn't get fucked much as her husband was working at overseas. But I'm sure she'll get fucked every once in two years when her husband comes back home for vacation.

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Mother discovered as a model finds lots of fun.I am so excited to tell you my story of fame and fortune. I dreamed of it for most of my life but after marriage, two beautiful daughters and ten extra years I had given it all up. They just don't look for thirty-five year old models.

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A while back I wrote a story called "Sandra Turns Over," about my wife Sandra, or rather, about her big sexy ass. And how, after she put on some pounds after a few kids, she got into my playing with her ass, and finally, into my fucking her ass. It usually starts like this. We start making out, my hands going all over her curvy body, feeling her heavy breasts, her soft belly, her love handles, then down to that gorgeous big ass.

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This is just a short little story. It has been a long time since I posted on here so I thought I'd get back into it with something light. Not sure about doing any more in this series, maybe if this is received well enough. I know there is definitely story for more and I even rewrote the ending to be more open. If you like this well enough, let me know and I'll do more. However, I do have a few others projects I'm working on, some new stuff and some other chapters for what I already have written. Hope you enjoy! It's fairly short, quick, and to the point!

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"That's her. Check it out. Wow," whispered Billy Sherman's buddy. They were at the town bar that they had been going to since before they were legally allowed to drink. And there, at the end of the long bar, not far from the door, sat Sue Lockhart, the middle school gym teacher.

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When I took over as chair of the office social committee, I was not aware that one of the tasks I'd inherited from the previous chair was helping the boss set up for the company Christmas party that he hosted at his house. It wasn't something I should have had to do, but the previous chair had set a precedent that I was then obliged to uphold. It wasn't all bad, though, since the party was on a Saturday night and they offered to let me get ready over there rather than having to run home and run back.

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Mrs. Khanna ran into Mrs. Sorabji as the latter was stepping out of an exclusive shoe store at Nariman Point in Mumbai. "Hi Yasmin," exclaimed Mrs. Khanna," haven't seen you in ages! How are you?" "Very well, thank you. And you?" "Oh, vadhiya ji vadhiya," said Preeti Khanna jovially, then her eyebrows knitted into a frown, "you are a clinical psychologist, right?"

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Eva looked out her bedroom window. She had heard the gate to her driveway being opened. It was Jim, the son of her best friends Alice and Mike, arriving to mow her lawn. Eva was a fifty five year old widow, living alone on the outskirts of a small college town. Her husband Eddy had passed away three years previous. Eva was only now beginning to pick up her life following the death of her soul mate. God knows what would have happened to her without the support of her friends and their son Jim.

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I told the young man we were to meet in a motel room. We both love meeting that way. There is something particularly sexy and forbidden to me about motels. I've always admitted a peculiar fetish for them. The fact that it’s neutral territory. No real life interruptions or distractions. The knowledge that untold numbers of other people have had sex in this same room.

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