Your erotic stories

Zee is my mother. I wanted to say that right up front because I want to tell my story straight. Anyway there aren't a lot of places you can tell a story like this unless people know what it's about beforehand so it seems silly to write half the story and then say "Oh by the way…" Who's surprised?

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After some prodding from some fans I've decided to go ahead and release chapter 2. Currently I'm hard at work on the final chapter. As always thanks for all the kind words. The next morning Ryan awoke with a huge grin on his face. He'd managed to sleep with his own mother without her knowing it had happened. He laid there for a while just reflecting on the past night's outcome. Eventually, Ryan came to a couple of realizations.

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I have this reoccurring fantasy that I dare not tell anyone who actually knows me. I identify as a bisexual woman, but I much prefer women over men. One thing that REALLY turns me on about men however, is them watching me and them masturbating.

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Officer Christopher Milling took his job very seriously. He was a young 24 years old, he worked out everyday, ate healthy, and he wanted to make a difference. Despite of, or because, of his white trash upbringing. No one had ever encouraged him to be anything more than trailer trash, except his sister, Anna.

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In high school, it had always been me, Jodi, and Nadine. I couldn't have hoped for a closer relationship, even with sisters. We were sort of nerds in high school, but under the acne, clueless fashion, and dumb crushes were fun-loving, pretty young women waiting to break free.

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I had just arrived home on break from college and was in Chip’s neighborhood, so I figured I’d just drop in and see if he’d gotten home yet. No one answered when I rang the doorbell and I was about to head back down the driveway when I heard a splash, indicating that someone was using the pool. I walked around the side of the house thinking it might be Chip but stopped before I opened the gate to the backyard. I could see the diving board still vibrating and a figure just surfacing at the shallow end of the pool.

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"Thin" isn't a word anyone has ever used to describe me. "Beautiful" isn't either. But "sexy"? Well, that's another story. It's funny how long it takes us to come to a realization of who we really are. For me, it took just over 40 years. My whole life I'd struggled with the weight of my own expectations—always wanting to be fifteen or twenty pounds lighter, to have better cheekbones, to have my hair be a better color or my complexion a little better.

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