Your erotic stories

The follwing story is a work of fiction, based on facts from my life. The names of all parties have been changed to protect their "innocence". "Hey Jim, you need anything from Supply while I'm down there?" "Naw, I'm good Marv, thanks anyway." I headed down the hall to the elevators so I could get to Supply. It was Thursday, and I was winding up some details so my weekend wouldn't be interrupted by any calls from the office.

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I've always had an affinity for older men, but these days it seems I'm either the older man or one of the older men involved when there's sex play. But recently I was fortunate to meet a man who at seventy-one made for the widest margin in age I'd been with in quite a while. John and I met at a rehearsal for a school function in which my granddaughter and his great-grandson were involved.

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Criticism much appreciated, this is a rewrite of Brian's Fuck and have changed the title as you suggested. * I felt Brian's fuck like I knew I would. He was a big guy and I just knew when we did foreplay it would hurt first time, but the fact is I wanted it and I wanted to share the experience with Brian who I trusted implicitly.

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The boy had no real name. He was the tanner's get, below even the whore's runts, responsible for soaking the hides in urine. The tanner called the child "Boy," long after the boy had left childhood behind. The town was large enough that most forgot to which tannery the young man belonged; everyone called him "the tanner's boy" for so long that it became his moniker.

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I'm not always in the mood to have sex with other men, but when I get in the mood, it hits me pretty hard. I'm a thirty-one year old guy living in Norristown, Pennsylvania, and as far as all my friends know, I'm a straight guy. I love women, but sometimes I really want the feelings that only another man can give me.

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My daughter announced she was getting married. I had been expecting it for a while now. Mark was a great kid. Well, I guess young man is more accurate.

He and Abby had been dating for almost three years. They had finished school, he passed the bar exam, and now was working in his father's firm. She had just come in from dinner with Mark and his parents, Robert and Louise. They have a membership in a very nice country club. 

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I had been working temporarily in the DC area near the Pentagon for a few weeks. While there is an excellent mass transit system in the city, the apartment I was living in was far enough away from the Metro stations that it would take almost as much time commuting to the nearest station as it took me to go ahead and drive into work.

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Pelle, or as I called him, "Baby face", looked so lovely now. He was eighteen, a year younger than me, but his looks made me think otherwise sometimes. So sweet but such a slut for being fucked by me. Those innocent blue eyes that made me quiver. That head full of sexy sleek dirty blonde hair I loved to run my fingers through. I couldn't keep my eyes off of his slightly thin and 5' 7" body.

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I don't even know where to begin. It's such a hard story to tell, and I'm afraid that it doesn't show me in the best light. 

I guess I should start by telling you about myself. I'm a happily married man, 47 years old, 6-2, 190 pounds. Maybe not the best looking guy, but I keep myself in shape and I work out every day. Grey hair, blue eyes, nice smile. 

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I was standing over my father's grave at Sunnycrest Cemetery as the cleric spouted empty words and prayers, and as my mother wept crocodile tears into her lace hankie. "Be strong, Lucinda," said my Great Aunt Martha, patting my mother's shoulder. Aunt Martha was my father's mother's sister.

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