Your erotic stories

Darcy stared at herself in the mirror with disgust. Despite the one-piece, well-fitting bathing suit she wore, she was still critical of herself. She was still a very attractive woman in her mid-forties, but a little curvier then her petite frame suggested. She stood 5' 3" and had what some would say a little extra baggage around her hips and thighs.

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Guy was a twenty-five year old washing machine service engineer who was mentally and physically marred by the scarring of adolescent acne. He was also thin, shy, and sexually frustrated, and was altogether the exact opposite of all that service engineers are supposed to be. His was not the life of continual housewife conquests and extended house calls no matter how much he wanted it to be, and on the only two occasions that he had made half-hearted advances to the ladies he had called on he had been rebuffed instantly, and threatened with being reported to head office.

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"Would you help me over in Reference, please?" Richard looked up from his filing. He swiveled his head, looking for the source of the clear, but tiny voice. "I'm rearranging and I need someone to help move the shelves and lift the boxes of books." He spied Sylvia, standing a little to the side and behind him. Richard nodded "ok" and filed the last two cards. He closed the card file drawer and followed her to the reference room, for which she had already started.

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It was Sunday afternoon at the library. Ellen, the library's director, paused to watch her young page struggle with rearranging the furniture in the new teen area. Getting things set up was hard work and it was a good thing they had come in when the library was closed. They needed the extra time and the activity would have disturbed the patrons during normal hours.

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Spots of dappled sunlight streamed through the trees and danced and twirled on the pavement as I waited for her outside the building. She was always late, frantically trying to keep up with her life. Not that I would ever want her life, I snorted to myself. Immediately regretting the thought, I focussed on the distant rush of traffic echoing softly through what had to be the last quiet street in Brisbane's central business district.

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Marie was a mature woman with short, well layered blue silver hair and a slightly plump, but still desirable body that was generally covered by proper attire, consisting of sensible tops and knee length skirts. She was a junior high school librarian, a widow who had been married to her college sweetheart for twenty some years until he had perished in a vehicular accident.

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I am an eighteen year-old, just. My parents are divorced and I live with my dad. We get along well, going to football games together etc. but every now and then his work will mean he's away for a few days, which causes him to feel guilty. "Are you sure you'll be alright Jack?" he'd said looking very concerned. "I'll be fine dad", I assured him.

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Author's note: After a long time, I wrote another Chapter of Carol's Series. Hope you will enjoy it! After the long sex session with Carol and her son, John needed a refreshing bath. The large swimming pool in the backyard was the ideal site to recover his energies.

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I remember it as being one of 'those' weeks. Sunday was my twenty-second birthday and my mother took me to lunch at The Connaught. On such occasions, my mother likes to take charge. I think that the elderly couple at the next table thought that I was her Toy Boy. Oh well, if it brightened up their outing.

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I had driven 25 of the 50 kilometres of my way home from the Christmas Eve celebrations I had at my girlfriend's home. I decided to call in on old Miss Tomlinson, my old retired schoolteacher, she and I finished school the same year; I at 16 and she at 60. That was 12 years ago. Why I decided to call in on her I have no idea still. Sure I saw her in her garden and waved as I passed her house on many occasions, but never once stopped.

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