Your erotic stories

Working in construction for so long I've been able to work my way up to foreman; which in my case, basically means that I point out what others are to do and I don't do much physical labor anymore. I've been doing this, with the same company, for almost twenty years now, starting when I was just seventeen. I've been able to keep myself in great shape, physically and sexually. It's no secret that there's a special category for construction workers in a lot of women's, and men's, fantasy worlds. I've been able to take advantage of a lot of a lot of those feelings over my career and I hoped to keep it up as long as I could. After all, I'm only thirty-six years old; I expect to be able to fuck like a madman for another few decades.

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I was very happy for my mother when I found out that Cindy was coming to visit. It was late June. I had finished school for the year and had not found a summer job yet -- although I was in no hurry to accomplish that. Mom was still getting over her divorce from my father almost a year ago and she desperately needed to have some fun. I had tried my best to bring her out of the doldrums that she was in, but I guess there's only so much an eighteen year-old son can do. I was hoping that a week with Cindy was what she needed to rejuvenate herself.

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When Dad was alive he took real good care of Mom. For as long as I can remember Mom has been a sleep walker. Dad had a thin line tied between his leg and Mom's ankle and when ever she started sleep walking he would guide her back to bed. She did not always sleep walk but when ever she felt stressed she would. Like the time her brother Walter was injured in a car accident. Mom woke up three times that night and Dad had to get her back into bed.

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It was the middle of July. Ninety plus degrees with heat advisories but here I was pushing the mower over the world's largest lawn because Dad had been ragging me about getting it cut. I'm dressed in shorts and tennis shoes, soaked in sweat barely able to keep a grip on the slick handle imagining I'm about to collapse as I finally finish the last strip of grass.

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This story takes place in the summer of my 19th year. I had returned to my hometown after an accident which had left me hospitalized for two months. Upon returning I needed to determine a direction for my life. I had enlisted in the army and was awaiting my active duty date in late 1969 when the accident happened. The damage to my body was sufficient to cancel my enlistment and give me a get home free pass from Uncle Sam’s party in Viet Nam. While many of my friends had suffered as a result of that war, I was not sorry that I did not have to go.

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"Write me a story," my lover says, her eyes glinting with deep, sensual desires. I kiss her, savoring the warmth and wetness of her mouth, as I say, "What shall I write, my love?" She smiles at me wickedly, her hands fondling my growing erection. "Something – naughty," she replies, her voice low and soft, caressing me like velvet. "Something – forbidden..."

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For a 19-year-old guy, there is nothing more embarrassing or unsettling than to be caught by your mother fucking a sweet young thing in her bed. We should have at least heard the door deadbolt unlock! 18-year-old Sheila was in the throes of a mind-blowing orgasm I had just given her by eating her pussy. Midway through the orgasm I had scurried to mount her. She had guided my cock into her and I was fucking her with abandonment when she screamed.

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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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When I was seven I wrote a story about a space ship landing in our back yard. The aliens were friendly and, at some point, they ate purple ice cream. As mothers do, mine told me it was brilliant. A year later, I thought it was dumb. A year after that, I wished I could write like that again. The next year, I burned it. My mom spanked me for playing with matches. The next day I wrote a story about a mean old mother and her reign of terror. As mothers do, she said it was cruel. The next day, I burned it.

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I had been suspicious of your visits to my panty drawer for quite some time, but it wasn't until I bought that nanny-cam that I could confirm it. You can imagine my surprise when I began coming home from work and finding video after video of my nineteen year-old son dressed in my bras, my panties, my dresses and high heels. That was the kind of behavior you might expect from a little girl, not a nearly grown young man. What amazed me most was how often you did it, how shameless you were in what you took.

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