Your erotic stories

Dawn felt the big boat move, and tensed, remembering again where she was. She sat up straight, and looked out the window, watching the jetty recede, and the people still milling about on it get smaller. The boat rocked faintly, and she swallowed. It was not as bad she had originally thought, but what on earth would she do if this thing capsized? She couldn't swim, and she knew no one on the boat. She opened her pocketbook and searched for the little notepad and pen.

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I think it's probably safe to say that most people have at least two distinct sexual memories; losing their virginity, and the best sex they ever experience. For a variety of reasons, the two events are usually distinct and separate. Most people recall losing their virginity with fondness for obvious reasons, but will admit the awkwardness of the first time encounter, based usually on the lack of experience on the part of one or both participants.

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Beatrice got divorced at the age of 28 because her husband left one day and sent a van round to collect his possessions a week later, and then disappeared. Now, 10 years later, she lived alone and worked as a hospital administrator. She'd always been somewhat overweight. Unkind members of her family called her fat and her older brother called her stout, a word she hated. She thought of herself as cuddly, well-covered, and shapely.

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I was just entering second year of college and decided to rent a room instead of going back to residence. It was so noisy there and the food sucked. So I thought finding a room would be better. Checking the Student Housing Office on campus I found a couple of places that seemed interesting. After checking them out, I decided to take the room at Mrs. Johnson's house. Mrs. Johnson, or Mary as she wanted me to call her, was about 60. She had a full time job but needed the extra cash from my rent to make ends meet.

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Rob Jenkins was taking the garbage to the alley just as the sun came up. The truck came early, and he did not want to miss this collection; his family had a lot of trash. He wanted to put it out the night before, but his mother said no. She was fearful that dogs would knock the container over and spread their garbage around. There were rats in the alley, and she did not want to provide any food for them.

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Ellie Carson was a fifty six year old woman who owned the neighborhood flower shop, or as she was fond of saying, the shop owned her. It was all she had to show for a lifetime devoted to a husband who had left her years ago, and she kept opening the door everyday out of habit pretty much because she had no place else to go.

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PRELUDE Louise Connor took me by the hand and led me over the doorway with the mistletoe hanging overhead. She took me in her arms and kissed me driving her tongue deep into my mouth. Then she released the lip lock on me and dropped to her knees in front of me. I remained still as Louise unbuckled my belt and unfastened my trousers. She took her time and then lowered them down past my knees. I could feel my cock rising to the occasion and my boxer shorts tented in evidence of my excitement.

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This true story was written for mature women by a mature woman. I am willing to bet that there are many women out there just like me who are over 60 years old, divorced, widowed or single by choice that just don't think that they are sexually desirable any longer. I am here to tell you that is a lot of hooey. I know this because until my 62nd birthday I felt the same way.

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My eyes open hesitantly - struggling to adjust to the early morning sun filtering in through the bedroom curtains. I let out a small groan as I reached across the nightstand at the side of the bed in an effort to turn the alarm clock in my direction so that I could see what time it was. I froze in mid-reach when my mind finally processed the fact that I was completely naked and in somebody else's bedroom. It came rushing back to me in a hurry why nearly every muscle in my body was protesting with my every movement. I slowly turned my head, hoping that it had all been a fevered dream.

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Chase wiped the sweat from his brow. Damn, but it was hot in this attic! He had promised to help his neighbor, Mrs. Gumshot, clean out her attic in exchange for her late husband's jazz albums. Mr. Gumshot had been a bandleader and had a massive collection of old jazz hits.

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