Your erotic stories

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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When Trevor came in to the Environmental Awareness Center at ten a.m. for his Wednesday volunteer shift a new receptionist was on duty. She looked to be in her mid-twenties with long auburn hair, sparkling green eyes, a rosy blemish-free complexion and a buxom chest. "Hi, I'm Trevor Bridges," he said extending his hand, "are you a new volunteer here?"

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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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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 had just returned from college and was so broke it hurt. I hadn't a penny left from my allowance, but that was so tiny. I was always the poorest girl in my class - my parents did as much as they could, but simply didn't have enough to keep themselves, let alone subsidise me.

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"They are real!" Harry said emphatically, glaring at the drunken brothers sitting across the bar from him. Billy had fallen off his stool, assisted by the wildly flailing arms of his larger brother; but Billy usually did anyway; and Bob, trying to keep from falling was holding tightly to the bar, tears in his eyes, howling with laughter.

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Carrie licked her lips nervously, straightened her top and knocked lightly on the door. She waited for a response, but she couldn't hear anything – had she knocked hard enough or was he just busy? If she knocked again and he had heard her the first time but ignored it then wouldn't he get really annoyed? She paused for a few seconds more, then took her courage in both hands and rapped sharply on the door.

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There she was. Reading erotic stories, and rubbing her pussy. This had become an every day, thing lately, and she didn't know, and really didn't care. She loved bringing herself to orgasm, while reading hot erotic stories. She read a lot of different stories, but the ones with groups, or reluctance, turned her on the most. She had never actually had sex that way, but has always fantasized about it.

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Retirement has many compensations! The opportunity to take holidays at any time I fancy is one I rate highly. This is the story about a recent enjoyable break. I recently spent Christmas away in a lovely city centre hotel in Bath in the English West Country. What a beautiful town, relaxing, full of history and incredibly photogenic! On Boxing Day I took my camera out to enjoy this photogenic place. When I returned to the warmth of the hotel I witnessed an unusual confrontation at the reception desk.

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The time was 1995 and the place was a sleepy suburb of Albany, New York. He was a bored man in his mid-40s whose wife had taken off with another guy, leaving him with a house he didn't want and a lot of time on his hands - until he started paying attention to the sights around him.

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