Your erotic stories

'Shit, I'm late again,' I thought as I looked down at my watch. 9:56. I've got four minutes to park the car, run into the mall and punch in before the boss has another reason to yell at me. And like that, I ran as fast as my young legs could take me. With 7 seconds to spare. 'It's gonna be a good day,' I thought as I adjusted myself. As good of a day as one could have at the mall, that is. It was the summer before my sophomore year in college.

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Cathy worried about her daughter Melanie who just was eighteen years old. It made Cathy think back of her own teenage years when she was as an ugly ducking growing up in Ohio. Only in her late teens she suddenly bloomed into a beautiful swan. Unfortunately being a blooming beauty, combined with her youthful inexperience, soon made her a single mother. Fortunately she received great support from her parents, Bob and Carol.

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Tyler let out a sigh of relief as he set down the last fully painted model of his Dark Angels' army. He stood up and made his way across the room tiredly. He stopped abruptly in front of his full length mirror, taking a good look at himself. For an 18 year-old freshman in college he looked pretty damn good, he thought. Short brown hair, fairly tall, and very well toned.

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Horny Florida mom has fun with her son A Romantic a' clef: For images to keep in mind while you read this Courtney Cox; or better yet, check out Diane Webber for nude photos The Situation She was old enough to be his mother, but she looked ten years younger. He was old enough to go off to college, but still seemed a youth as he returned home at Christmas time. His mom looked at him and saw her boy. He looked at his mom and saw a beautiful, sexy woman with open arms for him. She greeted him with a hug. He loved the feel of her breasts against his chest as she embraced him. She felt the solid member that rose in his pants as she clasped him tight.

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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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When she crossed over I-80, Nancy snuggled her lean frame into the soft leather that was wrapped around the driver's seat and kicked off her heels. The countryside and farms blurred beside her and she day-dreamed as the car continued its course, almost on autopilot, down I-57 towards Champaign, Illinois. She enjoyed these drives. They represented the only time during the week when she could shut down, block out the irritations of her life.

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Jackie could not believe that she was doing this; kneeling on the floor beside the bed in her motel room, performing oral sex on a twenty-one-year-old total stranger. She had met Eric in the bar across the street from the motel that she was staying at, with her eighteen-year-old daughter, Karen.

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I first noticed her on a grey November's day at the supermarket. As she loaded shopping into her car a huge bag of green apples fell from one of the carriers, hit the ground, split and fruit rolled everywhere; she must have been very fond of apples. Much of it tumbled, erratically in my direction, I scurried about gathering up the tumbling orbs and restored them to their somewhat flustered owner. I would never have looked at her twice, she could have been my mum but then she smiled and her face lit-up, rolling back the years in a trice.

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I love him to death. I really do. He's a wonderful husband, and the greatest dad in the world. I've been working so many hours and running back and forth to Chicago that he has had to practically becum the full time dad and part time mom. I regret the time I spend away but I'm becoming more and more successful, more and more renowned and I don't want to lose this. I've faded into the background for much too long; it's time for me to make my mark in the world.

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'Knock knock', Ron's knuckles tapped against the glass. There was no movement. 'Knock Knock', he tried again, looking at the handle on the door. Stepping back, he peered up at the top windows. The only sound of life was the sound of a police siren a couple of streets over. Spattering rain annoyed his eyes. He tapped on the glass panel of the front door again, and ran his nails over the flaking paint on the wall of the porch, picking at chunks.

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