Your erotic stories

Ever since I was a little girl, Christmas time has been my favorite time of year. But now I was a grown woman. I was home for the holidays on winter break from college. It was so great to see Paul, my high school sweetheart, after 4 months of being apart. Although we'd been dating for over two years, I was still a virgin and I intended to stay that way until we got married. Paul was okay with it though.

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This story is my entry for the 2013 Winter Holidays Story Contest so, if you like it, please remember to vote! Thanks for taking the time to read, and Merry Christmas to all! * Katy silently sprinkled the last of the sparkling dust across the snow and looked up at the clear, night sky, watching for reindeer. Seeing the sky empty except for stars, she turned to admire her handiwork; the blanket of snow wrapped around her house shimmered with the silvery dust.

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Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house, not a stitch she was wearing, not even a blouse. She had made up her mind that she wanted to see the hot, sexy fat man that left all those wonderful presents under her tree every year. So she took a nice long bath and shaved her sexy body bare, paying special attention to her sweet pussy.

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"Oh yeah, that's it, get that tongue way up inside me." Jesus, this rich bitch sure loved to eat pussy. I could tell she was inexperienced, but she definitely made up for it with her enthusiasm. I sat on the lid of the toilet, my teenage legs spread wide, as she knelt between my creamy thighs with her expensive clothes on, her face plastered against my tingling wet cunt.

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Gina let out a quiet groan when she was awakened by the clock radio alarm. Blue Christmas by Elvis was playing, and the music merged with her feelings as she'd drifted off to sleep. The bed shifted, and she knew Brian was sitting up to shut off the alarm. In a fit of pique, she rolled over, facing the wall. A quiet sigh let her know that the gesture hadn't gone unnoticed.

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This move was a big step for me. After being married for thirty years I finally had my kids raised and was left without a life, neither; personal, professional nor sexual as we'd been living apart in the same house for two years. I finally made the decision to leave and make my own way again. Needless to say, much was my own fault as I tolerated the neglect and did so from personal fears and the loathing to be on my own with two kids, but none the less, as I approached my thirty year anniversary I kept asking myself, "Do you want another thirty years like this?" and the answer came back every time as "fuck no!".

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"You probably think I'm too old for you." I paused to consider. The fact was: he was too old for me. He was more than twice my age. I had dated men a little older than me, but I usually stuck with men under thirty. There was also the fact that Aaron was the Santa Claus at the mall where I manage a department store, and while he looked decidedly different, and more attractive, when he was out of his costume, I still couldn't bring myself to go on a date with Santa.

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It had been nearly two years since I lost my wife to a drunk driver. Dating at twenty is a bitch, dating at fifty... well, let's not go there. I had a lot of friends, and that helped, but to be honest, porn and hand jobs were no replacement for the twice a week sex I was used to for the last twenty five years. As I said, dating at fifty is a bitch, there aren't too many choices in a small town, even a college town like the one where I teach.

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