Your erotic stories

I lived in a town where my mom and dad worked at a small state college; mom was an administrative assistant in the human relations department and dad was a lecturer in history. Laura Hughes worked as a women's tennis coach and women's health counselor at the college. She was a good friend of my mom and had straight, shoulder-length, blonde, hair, large green eyes, and prominent cheek bones. She was in good shape. She was the star forward on an over-30 women's basketball team, aptly called, "The Matures," and my mom played a guard on the team.

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About 3 years ago I had an experience that changed my life. I only regret that it did not happen when I was much younger. I was then a 68 year old woman and had been a widow for 12 years. During this time I had no real relationships and certainly no sexual ones. My name is Victoria. As I live by myself one could imagine that this would be lonely and unsatisfying but I gain enough satisfaction from my work and family who visit me about once a month. I work as a tourist guide in the city.

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"Half an hour to go," I thought. We closed at six o'clock on Fridays, and I was definitely ready to go home. It had been a long week at the shoe store where I worked. Michelle, the owner, had decided to hold a big summer sale to try to boost the business. It's hard for a small boutique store to compete with the big chains, so I understood the need, but it had been a crazy week. Michelle did a good job promoting the sale.

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Memory triggers. They come rushing at you when you least suspect them. You can walk into a house and take in the heady aroma of a cake being baked and you'll be transported back to your grandmother's kitchen. You can smell an empty beer bottle and suddenly there you are playing hide and seek behind a pile of your uncle's empties. Smell is our most powerful sense and we all have a repertoire of aromatic triggers nicely tucked away in that gluggy grey mass we call a brain.

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Not a soul in the long hallways of the University on a Saturday afternoon. I was trying to figure out where this office area had been. I opened doors on the sides, and found one leading to a cluster of offices which could have been the right place. I was probably going further than I should have, when I heard a voice behind me.

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I was lying on my front. He was on his back. We were both naked for we had just had sex. His hand rested on the small of my back, mine was on his hip. Both hands would occasionally stray; his into the crease of my bottom, mine into his crinkly pubic hairs and onto his semi-hard dick. We both knew that we would have sex again quite soon.

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CHAPTER 1 Brown haired and green-eyed Guy Meadows was left confused when seeking to find is the optimum age to marry because the opinions varied widely. He settled on twenty-eight and planned accordingly. He studied hard at college and emerged with a masters in business administration and after settling into permanent employment upgraded that to an MBA. By the time he was twenty-seven Guy was director of operations for a company that manufactured, imported and distributed LP gas and electric grills and barbecues.

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About two weeks after my sensuous and successful aptitude test with 'Manon', the company which provided discreet escorts for ladies. I was contacted by Ron Vincent, who told me to call at the office the following evening as he had my first client. I had already spent some time with Ron, getting a few pointers on what would be expected of me. He also had me fitted out with a couple of outfits, a smart dark blue suit and a more casual jacket and pants, with shirts to match.

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Eva looked out her bedroom window. She had heard the gate to her driveway being opened. It was Jim, the son of her best friends Alice and Mike, arriving to mow her lawn. Eva was a fifty five year old widow, living alone on the outskirts of a small college town. Her husband Eddy had passed away three years previous. Eva was only now beginning to pick up her life following the death of her soul mate. God knows what would have happened to her without the support of her friends and their son Jim.

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MATH TEACHER, MRS. ROGERS I was adopted by a loving couple and raised in a small town in Northeast Ohio. When I was 18 years old in high school, I developed a strong interest in math mainly because I had a very good teacher, Mrs. Pauline Rogers, who also was an attractive lady: about 5'2" and 120 lb, blonde, firm boobs, and slim legs. When ever I was close to her, I tried to inhale her intoxicating perfume. I worked hard to please her, who I guessed was about 35 years old. In turn, she was glad to have one male student interested in learning math. There were rumors that Mr.

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