Your erotic stories

December 3, 1997 He stood just shy of six foot, medium build, brown hair and brown eyes. His clothes were similarly, well, average. But the way he moved wasn't. It was feral, stealthy.....like a beast on the prowl for food....or a man on the scent of a woman. Taking a second, more thorough look, Savannah observed how his jeans fitted him snugly, drawing attention to well toned thigh and calf muscles, and a tight ass. His loose button-up shirt hinted at a smooth, sculpted chest.

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A muttered curse bounced off the interior walls of the SUV. Gail Steelport took a deep breath, hit the steering wheel of her 2000 Suburban, and let another vile explanative fall from her usually smiling lips. The gauge didn't lie, and neither did the sound of an engine trying to turn over, but failing to do so. Gail looked around; her headlights aided her in determining that she had pulled off to the side of the road, far enough that no one -- who was paying attention -- would run into her. Rain pelted the window, as Gail dug through her purse.

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My boss, Mr. Adams, calls me a nanny. He's pretty old school about things so I just let it go. I prefer the term, au pair, because it sounds so much more exotic and important. Mrs. Adams is probably the one who has the best grip on reality. She just calls me her "help." I started working for the Adams' to help pay my way through business college. Then about three months into a graphics designer degree, I decided, "Fuck it."

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It truly was a day to remember. I stepped out onto my pool deck that Saturday afternoon, aiming to bring the water up to the proper level and check the chemical balance. Three neighborhood couples would be at our home that evening to share my locally-famous smoked ribs. I wanted the pool to be crystal clear in case we decided to swim too.

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"Give it up Monica," Carla complained! "He's practicing his bah humbug routine early...no way is he going to tell us what he wants to be for Halloween!" True; but then, that sure didn't excuse her dragging Monica off my lap. And she did it just as Monica started to whisper something in my ear too. That wasn't the worst of it either; oh no, the darling flirt had finally let my hands push up under her sweatshirt! So my hands were sliding over the taught, feathery soft skin of Monica's belly; when, timing her tease to perfection, Carla had pulled her off my lap.

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My wife Angie and I have been married for seven years and despite having had two children Angie had kept her figure, she was a slim 34 year old woman with long blond hair and small to average, but beautifully formed breasts. We have had a good but not very adventurous love life. Angie would give me oral sex, usually while I was returning the favour but never allowed me to cum in her mouth. We had discussed anal sex but she had considered it too painful and dirty.

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I was on my stomach. My tongue nestled in Georgie's ass crack as she also lay on her stomach on the bed in front of me. She was sucking Chas's cock – her husband. Behind her, I was slowly moistening her anus, in preparation for what I was about to give her. Around my waist was my new blue jelly dong, complete with the strap on attachment that would allow me to fuck my best friend in the ass.

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My friend, George, the sleeping car attendant, teases me with a double entendre private nickname. He calls me "All-Aboard Betty." Let me explain. I have necessarily drawn George into a conspiracy because I need him to achieve my purpose during periodic journeys aboard The Frontier, a transcontinental passenger train. When I'm aboard the Frontier becomes instead the Piece Train. (Apologies to Yusuf Islam. The devil made me do that.)

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Parents of children who play travel sports make tremendous sacrifices for their child's love of the game, but they also reap immense rewards. The most obvious sacrifice is the amount of time and money that is spent traveling; you could go months at a time without an unscheduled weekend day, and many of your weekends are spent in hotels. But with all the time away from home, you are usually in the company of your children's teammates and families, which leads to the formation of close relationships that can last a lifetime.

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No sooner had the key turned off in the ignition than I saw disaster about to strike. Snatching open the car door, I raced across the street. "Wait!" I yelled as I Olympic-hurdled a lawn sprinkler. Three feet up a ladder, Mrs. Kemp turned to look at me. She smiled and stepped back down. "Hey, Jimmy. When did you get home?" Panting to catch my breath, I gave her a grin. "Came in... late last night." I pointed over my shoulder at my car. "Mom had me to go grab a few things at Wally World for her."

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