Your erotic stories

Simon's hands automatically went to my waist, slipping low to cup my ass in his palms. I'd already pushed him past the point of no return, but he was still trying to reclaim control of the situation, feebly asserting his authority. "Amy—we can't," he said. "We said we wouldn't." Even if there had been conviction in his voice, the presence of his hands on my ass and the way his mouth opened against mine, his hot breath filling my mouth, made his true feelings clear. I felt a little guilty for pushing him, but not enough to stop.

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I had just finished a nice dinner and was walking back to the Bed and Breakfast where I was staying. It was still light and there was an orange glow in the west where the sun had set over the Pacific. I thought a glass of wine would be just the thing before turning in. Fortunately, the B&B had some available, honor system of course. That's what I like about them, so friendly, so trusting.

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September 2003 "Ya got ten bucks Mister?" she asked as she darted in front of me, one of a small group of black clad, pierced and tattooed punkers who'd mysteriously appeared in the neighborhood just days earlier. "Ten bucks? What happened to the fifty cents for squeegeeing my windshield?" I asked with a grin. "Fifty-cents! A rich, hip Miami guy like you," she teased, jiving me as she danced backward as I continued walking.

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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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Arnold Rasmussin, 42 year old, married white male, was very angry. Very angry. He was the senior accountant for United Foundations, Inc. and he had been passed over again when it came to the assignment of interns to members of the accounting staff. Arnold did not do anything about this. He didn't five years ago when the internship program was begun and he did not each year interns had been assigned since then.

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Joe was thirty-eight and lonely. He was tall, average looking and successful. His problem was judgment. He had given up looking for someone to share with, someone to love and be loved by. How he wanted that. Yet, every relationship he ever had ended when his chosen woman cheated on him. That confused him because he was an attentive lover, a good provider, even-tempered and respectful. Wasn't that what the women wanted?

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I'm a sixty year old retired widower with completely gray hair, a little paunch and live in a very nice three bedroom house in Wichita, Kansas. I drive the obligatory, for guys of my age, late model Mercury Grand Marquis. Everyone tells me I am a good-looking guy who has aged well. If I were trying to describe my interests I would only have to mention two. Travel and reading. I got away from buying the Book of the Month selections and now get most of my reading material from the nearby public library.

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I was concentrating on the road ahead as I drove my 'toy hauler' Motor Home through the stormy weather. The speed limit was 55 but I was only doing 35 because of the weather. I saw something black alongside the road ahead. It appeared to be moving so I lifted my foot off the accelerator. It was someone on the side of the road. I slowed more and saw the person turn to look at me. He was apparently clad in a black garbage bag.

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At my age, 56, sex with a young girl means someone who's 40 or maybe even 36. Anyone younger than that you start to feel as if you are committing some sort of crime and will be busted by the police and end up in prison as some guy's bitch. Maybe that's what keeps some of us "in line." I've been single for ten years now and have dated numerous women although that special one has been quite elusive.

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"I'm concerned about your work in this course, Theresa. You've already missed three assignments, you haven't been to half of my classes, and your midterm research assignment is due in two weeks. How is that coming? Have you started it?" "Yes, Professor Burk, but I don't know what to write. I tried to do the other assignments, but I'm behind in all my classes.

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