Your erotic stories

I grew up in a very small farming community. It was understood that when kids were old enough to get jobs, we would go to work. At age 14, I started working summer vacations in a grain elevator, a warehouse where area farmers bring their harvested grain to be stored. The harvest lasted from late July until early September, and the daily temperatures were consistently hovering around one hundred degrees.

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Chris yawned and moved to the next section of shelving. A big truck had made for a long night, leaving him and the rest of the night stock crew facing up the store after opening. "Never ending, man," his friend Alan grumbled from the other side of the aisle. "Feels like it." "At least the scenery ain't bad."

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Sally Perkins pulled her car into the driveway. She sat there for a few moments wondering what she was going to do for the week. Will, her 19 year old son was visiting with his father who moved away after separating from her two years ago. "Well these groceries aren't going to put themselves away." Sally said to herself aloud. She opened the door and stepped out of the car. The hot late morning sun felt good on her face and heated her body though the light sundress.

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There is a framed, color photograph resting on one of the built-in shelves in the living room of my 5th floor apartment. Everyone who visits me here in downtown Baltimore pauses to pick it up and look. There are nine bare-chested guys in the photo, all in their late teens or early 20s, standing beside each other, outstretched arms over arms, on a bright sunny beach, their backs to the Atlantic surf. They are all thick, hard-muscled and deeply tanned. And all wearing identical fire-engine red swim trunks with the words "Kill Devil Hills Lifeguard Service" emblazoned on the right leg.

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It was Cathy, my girlfriend, who found me the flat. When my old landlord died, and his son served notice on the tenants, I needed somewhere cheap, and available quickly. Of course, the ideal thing would have been to move in with Cathy. But she shared her parents' old house in Bedford with her sister, and anyway, I'd tried commuting from there into London for a couple of weeks. The 'BedPan line' -- Bedford to St Pancras -- was legendary at the time as not so much a rail route, more a fiendish torture cunningly designed by the operator to drive unwary commuters insane.

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Frankie had been doing the same thing every summer since he was 14; mowing the lawns for the local housewives of his neighborhood for some extra cash. Most paid him well, and he had a series of regular clients. Most people wouldn't think looking at him that such a friendly and dependable kid would also be successfully running his own lawn mowing business. Now, 18, this would be his last summer of mowing lawns as he was leaving for college in August. Frankie was a handsome young man, with light brown hair and blue eyes, and thanks to his lawn mowing job, had developed a nice firm shape to his 5'11" body.

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I couldn't believe that my mother had "volunteered" me to help one of her church friends. I barely knew the woman and was just back from a long road trip to a rock concert two states away. I was tired and only wanted to sleep but my mother figured it would be good for me to help her friend move into her new apartment. She had even made travel arrangements that I knew nothing about until she shook me awake that morning.

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Kimberly stood peeking through the curtains into her back yard, feeling deliciously naughty. Her children were away with her ex-husband for the summer, so there was really nothing standing in the way of a little fun. Outside, Chase pulled off his shirt, and she got chills from the sight of his muscular torso. Her eyes dropped to his waist, and she let out a quiet moan as she drank in the V formed by his abdominal muscles vanishing into his shorts.

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The phone rang as Keith just finished telling me he loved me. It was Susie. "Hi, Nancy," said Susie. "How's it going?" "Fine," I replied smiling at Keith while pointing to a picture of Susie and me in a framed picture. "Are you dating anyone, Nancy? Bill has this great friend I'd like to set you up with," stated Susie. "Oh, that's so nice of you, Susie," I replied imagining what kind of bore her set-up would be. "But, I'm really busy at work and traveling a lot which wouldn't be fair to Bill's friend right now. Maybe another time."

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"Paul, would you like to go and house-sit for Aunty Jean on Friday evening?" his mother asked. Engaged in trying to write a tutorial paper on the computer for next morning – a paper he should have been prepared two days before – Paul asked suspiciously, "Why?" "Oh well, the girl she usually has can't make it, and Jean's booked a seat for the opera, and as she'll probably be home late she says you can stay overnight."

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