Your erotic stories

I knew the moment Leah Finley and her daughter Samantha moved into the small house across the road from me that my life was going to take a very interesting turn. I'm Ken Yates, and I live in a semi-rural area outside a mid-sized Southern city in a small house located on three acres of land. It's not too far from where I work the second shift as a foreman at a nice-sized manufacturing plant, and that's part of the reason why I was living alone at the time.

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Kathy Porter was feeling a really powerful need -- she very much wanted to get her ass fucked by a big, hard cock. Truth be told, she would have preferred to have that cock plowing into her pussy until she climaxed but she was far too worried about getting pregnant to do that. Her controlling husband, who had gotten religion in a big way just a year ago, was adamantly opposed to the use of any kind of artificial birth control, especially including The Pill.

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It was winter, about 9PM, and I was in my living room watching football and eating ice cream when I heard the telltale sound of keys jingling and footsteps in the hall. I leaped to my feet as my heart rate spiked -- my sexy neighbor was home! I ran to my door to shove my eye into the peep hole.

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I hadn't seen him in person for nearly three years, since shortly after he became Governor and I moved away to college. Mitch, to those close to him, had moved his family next door when I was sixteen. They were really nice people, and neighbors. He had one son, Robert, which was in my class in High School, though I didn't know him well because he had transferred from another school.

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In those days, I didn't wear underwear. I had long hair down to the small of my back. I was in good shape, lean and muscular, a bike rider with thick legs and a laid-back demeanor. You probably know the type. So a certain kind of woman often responded to me. A certain kind of man, too, although I'd never given that a thought. For my part, here's what I liked in a woman: Natural, sensual. smart. Sexual intellectuals. Open and daring, although even if they weren't, I usually got them there pretty quick.

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Granted, it was the middle of the afternoon, but I was still irritated at being awakened from my much needed sleep by a loud racket from the neighbors' yard. I had dragged in pretty late the night before (technically, it had actually just been earlier that same day) and I wasn't quite ready to abandon my bed or my near-comatose state. I didn't remember my parents telling me that the new neighbors had little kids, but it sounded like a whole herd of them making a ruckus in their swimming pool.

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It truly was a day to remember. I stepped out onto my pool deck that Saturday afternoon, aiming to bring the water up to the proper level and check the chemical balance. Three neighborhood couples would be at our home that evening to share my locally-famous smoked ribs. I wanted the pool to be crystal clear in case we decided to swim too.

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I hate it when my wife goes out of town. I am left to my own devices and do not do well under those circumstances. God knows I am too old to hang out at clubs and I am not a neighborhood bar kind of guy She tries to take the pressure off by getting some of her friends to invite me over for dinner, but if she is gone during the week I usually decline. I can find enough work and a good book to get me through the evenings.

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