Your erotic stories

The paper had been in my bag for a couple of days now and I’d only just picked up the courage to phone the number advertised. It was a voicemail and the guy leaving the message sounded as nervous as I felt. He just left a number and his name, Pete. He asked that anyone calling should do so during the day because his wife would be out at work. This suited me fine because I was in a similar situation, I worked at home most days and my wife rarely got home from her job till 8pm.

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What started as a dare earlier in the day was now fifteen minutes from becoming something completely different. I could feel my palms sweating and I was already perspiring from nerves despite the fact I had just showered. My roommate Sue had teased me the entire time she was polishing my toenails but she also reminded me she'd be right there in the shadows if I needed her.

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I'm pretty much a creature of habit. At my age, you tend to be. I mean sixty is not ancient, but for sure I am no callow youth any more. Matter of fact, I only have one enemy: the fucking mirror! I pass a window on the street and see that reflection staring back at me? Don't know him! Inside I am still that thirty something marathon runner, dad and husband.

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I am not sure what motivated me. Was I just sick of guys my age? After all, they were immature. And especially, so I have been told, sexually immature. As a sophomore in college, I had only slept with four guys. Well, that is been fucked by four guys, I have fooled around with many others. In that time though I had never had a guy bring me to orgasm. Take a typical night with the last guy I fucked, Johnnie.

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