Your erotic stories

At 7pm sharp Michael pulled up in front of my door in his brand new range-rover. I smiled as I opened the passenger door and lifted the hem of my dress to get in. He was looking as gorgeous as ever in pants with a shirt and knitted pullover in case it got cold later. One of the benefits of dating older guys is that they know how to dress well, I thought to myself. I'd made an effort too, in heels and a cute little printed summer dress that was the result of a recent bout of retail therapy.

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It's another day in paradise here in South Carolina. Sunny and hot, a little too humid, but nice for tennis. My girlfriend and I were hitting balls on one of the beautiful clay courts at the resort where we are spending a week together.

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It was another long night at work. Apparently there was some event going on, a charity thing. Word had it that there would be a lot of cigar smokers there. Great. A lot of grumpy old men throwing their money at Nicaraguan orphans. Not that I have anything against the orphans. It just means I am going to have my work cut out for me. I had drink detail. Even more fun for me.

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I hear a car horn. I am out of the house in a moment. The front door slams behind as I take the front steps two at a time. When I reach the car, I open the passenger side and slide into the seat. "Hello, birthday boy!" she says. The soft orange glow of the streetlight doesn't illuminate much, but I see she is wearing a plaid mini skirt and a white shirt. She has neglected the top three buttons.

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He was laid to rest in the crowded little graveyard adjacent to the small Anglican church on the fringes of the Kyrenia Harbor in Cyprus. My mother had shown no interest in interring him in the States—or even in attending the burial ceremonial in Cyprus. But I thought that, in any event, this was a fitting place for him to be buried. This was where he belonged. He had taken his stand here and lived the last decade of his life here. I just wished I had been part of that last decade. Of course, that was as much my fault as it was his.

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We were in the study of Professor Hendrick's house, in the late evening, nearing the end of the tutorial he was conducting. At least I assumed it was nearing the end, because I was very close to coming. We were in a straight chair facing his desk. Professor Hendricks, his hands wrapped around my waist was sitting in the chair; I was sitting on his hard cock—or, rather, fucking myself on his cock in slow risings and fallings and me moaning in tenor to his groaning in baritone.

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Pamela had already made the picnic and packed it into a wicker basket when the boys arrived. She'd cleaned the kitchen as well, been a thorough little domestic goddess with her mom and dad away for the week. And finally she had changed from jogging pants and T-shirt into her costume. Nothing outlandish, just a simple white-muslin dress and sandals, and then to the garden to pluck daisies and buttercups and ring them into a crown and a necklace.

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My alarm. I slapped the thing, sent it flying. Later, I'd be amazed the thing still worked. I hate alarm clocks. I sat up on the side of my bed and adjusted my nightie. One of my nipples was peeking out. Five years ago, I'd have played with it, teased it for its indiscretion. Hell, five years ago, I probably wouldn't have worn the nightie. And I still would have played with it.

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I paused, and looked back down the track I had followed up the hill. The Downs in high summer have a special quality. The sweet smell of bracken, the softness of the rolling hills, the cool and quiet of the patches of woodland, the hum of the insects in the hot sunshine and the tracks leading mysteriously away from the ridge path through the brilliant green of the tall bracken. They are places of beauty whatever the season but most especially in late July.

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Take me there and I will cum. A bawdy tale by Cat All the time we'd been chatting on messenger I'd insisted there would be nothing more. Despite the incredible intimacy of our chats I stressed that I'd never go further. Although we had the most amazing electronic sex where you would sometimes make me cum three and even four times I'd told you I was scared to talk to you or meet you.

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