Your erotic stories

Dan was alone. After many years of a very happy marriage he lost his beloved wife Mary to cancer. He had taken early retirement in order to look after in the last few months and now he missed her dreadfully. Eighteen months had passed since the funeral and Dan had completed just about every bit of decorating and repair outstanding around the house, including the replacement of the shed and the building of a new summerhouse.

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"Dear Lord, do I feel my age this morning," thought Regina. She got out of bed and hobbled out to the kitchen. She hadn't really wanted to move into this retirement home, but she couldn't keep up the old farmhouse anymore. Her son William had taken over the farm pretty much right after her Frank had passed eight years previous. But Regina had tried to stay on in the house since then. But even that became too much, because it was such a big house to care for.

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For a special woman My name is Jackie. I'm in my early thirties and I'm really happy with my home life and my career. I got married a couple of years after college, I live in a nice apartment on the East Coast and these days I am working for a large firm in our IT department.

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Bette and I had different travel schedules, so I couldn't see her again for a couple of months. We both had booths at that last big fair of the season, though, and planned to get together then. "And this time," she told me, "I'll get us a real room." My camper-van is fine for just me but not the best for entertaining a lady, even if it had given us a magical first time together.

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The neighborhood seemed neat, quiet, and well-established, a lot like Bette herself. The little apartment building fit the surroundings comfortably. I checked my directions one more time, and found her door, number three. I noted the silly coincidence -- this was to be the third time we'd been together. As I raised my hand to knock on the door, I noticed that my mouth had gone to cotton, like a nervous teenager. I guess you never outgrow some things. (I hope not!)

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Tim yawned hugely as he padded downstairs, an empty glass in his hand. He almost tripped over his feet at the bottom, and steadied himself with a muted curse. The morning was cool, the house enveloped in a pre-dawn glow. He walked into the kitchen, resting the glass in the sink. Butterball, the fat ginger queen of his home, wrapped herself around his legs. He smiled, and felt the cat's purr against his leg. He bent to retrieve the cat food from under the sink.

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Dave was spading the flowerbed along the fence but his attention was on his wife who was planting flowers in the bed around the fountain. At forty-five, Jane was still a very impressive woman, especial bent over on her knees with her ass up in the air. The old cut offs she wore showed more than a little of her ass cheeks and allowed the plump outer lips of her sex to peek at him. The tent in the front of his shorts was a jutting testimonial to her sexiness.

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My parents had prepared a welcome home party for their Marine Sergeant son coming back from a tour of combat duty. It was a food and booze feast attended by various relatives, neighbors and family friends wanting to hear war stories. As glad as I was to be home among relatives, I had a problem that overshadowed all feelings. I was horny, extremely horny after a year of living in a hostile land, masturbating to keep my sanity.

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We were in the hotel bar having a post dinner drink when an older couple (we were mid 20s, they were late 40s I would say) approached us (I can't remember their names so I'll call them Jim and Pam). Anyway, they introduced themselves, said they'd noticed us by the pool and in the restaurant and had seen us out in the local town during the day.

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It had been a long couple of days. Catching a 4am flight then grabbing a rental and off to meetings, back to the hotel for a late dinner, and gone again early the next morning. Being a systems analyst was a big pain in the ass, but now mid week it was slowing down, and the next few days would be the pleasant part of owning one's business.

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