Your erotic stories

For years I had been driving my mother up to visit her girlfriend. Ever since I had turned sixteen, gotten my license, I'd taken mom on her monthly pilgrimage to spend the day visiting with her long time friend during the summer months. It wasn't like it was a cross-country trip, but mom hated driving on the freeway. And I didn't mind taking her as Valerie; mom's friend had a couple of sweet looking twin daughters.

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I was determined to make it the best summer of my life. I'd graduated college the first week of May and immediately received an offer for a dream job in San Diego. It meant moving clear across the nation, but it was too good an opportunity to pass up. The job started in September, so I had several months on my hands. I'd be working fifty hours a week come autumn and probably for some years after, so I decided a prolonged vacation was in order and had just the place in mind.

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"Please, come in." Candice smiled, she opened the door wide stepping back to let the men into her house. "How long do you think this is going to take?" she asked politely. "Maybe a few days, but it shouldn't really be more than two." One of them replied, smiling. She looked at his crisp, navy work shirt, it said 'Bud'. He was quite handsome, maybe in his late thirties.

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It was hot as hell, and I still had three more lawns to mow. It was the drawback to making most of my summer money doing yardwork. Graduation was only a few weeks behind me, and college and its expenses loomed ominously over my head. Fortunately, I was going to a local school, but I still had a commute, and books were going to kill me. Anyhow, I'd started early that morning, as soon as the dew was out of the grass, but after two yards already, it was just after noon and the sun pounded down.

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Summary: Lisa's son-in-law decides to show her exactly how hard things can get from a simple act of kindness. * I pulled into the driveway, glad to finally be home. I'd had a long day at work then had to stop for groceries afterward. All the way home all I could think about was putting everything away then slipping into a nice hot relaxing bath before starting dinner.

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Chapter One "Evan, Mr. Franklin would like to see you if you're available." "I'm on my way, Francine." Evan hung up the phone, grabbed his notebook and ran up the back stairs to Francine's door. As he caught his breath he made sure his shirt was tucked in and his tie was straight and brushing his hair back with his left hand opened the door and went in.

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It's a beautiful hot summer day and I'm in the front garden admiring my hard work. Weed free beds, blooming flowers soaking up the water I have given them, bees and butterflies dancing to natures tune. "Hey Mrs B, how are ya?" I'm startled, shaken from my reverie. I see Robbie's friend Dean on the pavement, looking young and fresh in shorts, jogging on the spot. I smile my automatic welcoming 'Mummy' smile.

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It had only been six days since Dolly Hamlin and Dr. Vince Ferugia had consummated their blossoming torrid relationship. To Dolly, the days had flown by in a rosy romantic haze that she had never experienced before. To Dr. Vince, the growing fullness in his balls and the soaring remembrance of his initial intimacies in experiencing the glorious body of his new paramour was a opening to a new world of sensual excitement.

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Prelude: "I'll be back in about half an hour, Rod is here if you need anything." I knew Erin's comment was meant more for her husband. Rod had suffered a stroke two years previous, and although he could get around, I had come to learn in the several weeks I worked for them he managed little more than pressing the garage door opener so I could get at their gardening tools. This summer I decided I would do what I loved for a change. We needed extra cash to pull ourselves out of debt, and I had done the shit jobs already, including overnight paper deliveries and scrubbing toilets.

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Katherine stumbled out onto the uneven back stoop, audibly groaning under the weight of the heavy-duty trash bag. It was full of crumbled plaster and strips of wooden lathe and swung ponderously, threatening to pull her over with each uncertain step. As her foot slipped on the sloping stone slab she overcompensated and was forced to let the bag drop with a heavy crunch. Catching herself with a sideways grab at the door frame, she slammed backwards into the peeling paint of the old wood siding.

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