Your erotic stories

Here’s a true story. They’re the best ­ I find reading about actual events even more exciting than reading fantasies. This all happened just before my 19th birthday. It may have been what sparked my interest in beautiful woman and all the things they do. I was living about half of each year at home with my parents in a large town in the West Midlands (England). I had a girlfriend, studying at university in Manchester, and I had a few casual girlfriends in my home town.

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I grew up in a very small farming community. It was understood that when kids were old enough to get jobs, we would go to work. At age 14, I started working summer vacations in a grain elevator, a warehouse where area farmers bring their harvested grain to be stored. The harvest lasted from late July until early September, and the daily temperatures were consistently hovering around one hundred degrees.

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It was Cathy, my girlfriend, who found me the flat. When my old landlord died, and his son served notice on the tenants, I needed somewhere cheap, and available quickly. Of course, the ideal thing would have been to move in with Cathy. But she shared her parents' old house in Bedford with her sister, and anyway, I'd tried commuting from there into London for a couple of weeks. The 'BedPan line' -- Bedford to St Pancras -- was legendary at the time as not so much a rail route, more a fiendish torture cunningly designed by the operator to drive unwary commuters insane.

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Sometimes the way things work out can make you smile. Recent events in my life came together to bring my husband and myself some unexpected pleasures. I will start by introducing myself. My name is Addison Jeffries. I am 30 years of age, 5'10' and I've got long, wavy, auburn hair. I'm an attractive woman and slightly vain about my looks, so I work out daily and run and swim. I own a travel agency and can afford to dress in the latest, form-flattering fashions.

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I first noticed her on a grey November's day at the supermarket. As she loaded shopping into her car a huge bag of green apples fell from one of the carriers, hit the ground, split and fruit rolled everywhere; she must have been very fond of apples. Much of it tumbled, erratically in my direction, I scurried about gathering up the tumbling orbs and restored them to their somewhat flustered owner. I would never have looked at her twice, she could have been my mum but then she smiled and her face lit-up, rolling back the years in a trice.

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I am not sure what motivated me. Was I just sick of guys my age? After all, they were immature. And especially, so I have been told, sexually immature. As a sophomore in college, I had only slept with four guys. Well, that is been fucked by four guys, I have fooled around with many others. In that time though I had never had a guy bring me to orgasm. Take a typical night with the last guy I fucked, Johnnie.

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She was the first thing I saw when I looked outside the kitchen window of our newly acquired house in the small Yorkshire village, and I was smitten the moment I glimpsed the saucy twintails in her red hair, the big eyes that appeared to look at the world with utter astonishment and the lithe form of her cute body, pale skin painted with delicious freckles and barely covered by the lime-green bikini. 'Blessed be the weather gods for allowing me this sight,' I thought to myself, quite aware how rare real summer days were in this part of the world.

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My boss came in one day and told me that I still had three days of vacation left from last year, which I had to use up within a month, otherwise I'd lose it. That surprised me, because I thought I had used up all my vacation when my wife Gina and I went to Hawaii last year. Apparently not. My boss asked me when I wanted to take the time off. Well, it was already the middle of March, and I had not done my taxes yet.

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It was definitely different. Linda was straddling me, her mound rubbing warmly against the underside of my penis, spreading her wetness over my flesh. She moaned softly as she looked down between our bodies and saw our genitals caressing each other. She moved her hips forward until her labia slid past the tip of my erection. I reached down and held it up a little as she raised herself. I rubbed my penis against her hairy mound, stroking her clitoris with it, then slipped it down into the cleft, then against her labia. I felt her vagina open and take the head of my organ inside her.

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I gripped the seat with excitement as the driver turned off of Thomas and into the crowded parking lot of the Veterans Memorial Coliseum in downtown Phoenix Arizona. It was a warm August night in 1982, and the spotlights from the arena caught the flinty dust in the air, creating a sparkling light show above the gravel parking lot as the sleek white limousine headed up to the main entrance. I glanced at Andrea, who was sitting beside me grinning madly.

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