Your erotic stories

How humiliating. Here I am, a once-successful thirty-something, happily married, or so I thought, two kids, great house, great life, blah, blah, blah. And now...I'm looking up at the façade of my old childhood home, watching the moving men carting in the few boxes I have, the remnants of that successful life that's now wrecked to hell and back. Ye gods, does anything spell "loserville" like moving back home with your mommy???

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NOTE: All characters in this story are over 18 years old. The term teenage still refers to people who are eighteen or nineteen years old. This story is pure fantasy! Have fun!! --commercial begins— Do you struggle with bad habits like smoking, drinking, or gambling? Does your spouse tell you he wants to clean, but constantly forgets? Do your kids constantly back-talk or struggle with their grades? Tired of throwing away hard earned money on tuition, just to have your son or daughter fail their classes? Then we have a solution for you!

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Laying the groundwork (and Penny) for a culture of sharing I know Chapter 3 was a little slow-going. I wrote you that one, so I could bring you this one. Enjoy. I had spent much longer with Aunt Marie than I'd planned. It was almost 6:00 pm. No surprise then, when I got home to find Mom and Penny sitting on the couch, drinking wine, and talking quietly.

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I sat down and cooed to her, soothing, calming. Trying to get her to stop. I was really getting worried. What would happen tomorrow? This could be an incredible disaster! Finally, slowly, she calmed and then relaxed and slowly got to her feet, this gorgeous sexy woman, my own nude mother, came as sat again in her chair.

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All characters depicted are 18 years of age or above. The author does not encourage or condone the activities described within. * Landon didn't exactly know what he expected prom night to be, but sitting in his gangly, pimple-faced friend Mark's den watching a porn film about naughty cheerleaders definitely wasn't what he had hoped for or envisioned.

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Brian came home from an overseas working stint. He had been away from home for about 2 ½ years and had finally decided that he was due to have a vacation. He had been married before he left the country but his wife had filed for divorce while he had been overseas, as she had met someone else. He had written to his Mom and asked if he could stay with her on his holiday. Ruth was so pleased that she immediately wrote and got all the details of when he would be returning.

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The following morning was almost a replay of the one before. I woke fairly early and drove over to Mom's hotel, letting myself into her room with the spare key, again. The drapes were not drawn shut as they had been yesterday, but stood open allowing the faint light of dawn to softly light the room.

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The tickets were originally for my mother and her close friend. They were set to go on a cruise ship and explore different exotic islands during the peak of summer. Unfortunately, mom's friend had a last minute issue at work, and she had to cancel a few days before the trip was supposed to start. The tickets were non-refundable. My mother tried to find someone else to go with her, but since most of her friends are also lawyers, none of them could go on such short notice.

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Ryan laid his hand on top of his gym shorts, pressing lightly on the erection underneath. He began to slide his hand up and down the shaft in long, slow strokes. In the total darkness of his bedroom, with no noise except for the ceiling fan, Ryan had time to think. He thought about his mother, Kristi. He thought about the robe she wore into the kitchen a half hour earlier when she didn't expect to find him there.

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My mother has to be the sexiest MILF on the planet, that's what my friends tell me and I agree. As a child, I took for granted how sexy my mother looked parading around the house wearing nothing but a bra and panties during the summer months. Now that I'm older and attending college, I'm beginning to see my mother in a different light. I love going through the photographs of Mom and me together.

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