Your erotic stories

"M...m....Melons..." My stammered exclamation hung there in the laundry room as the young woman and I stared at each other. I could not for the life of me recall her real name. She was, after all, not my son's girlfriend. If anything, she was a hanger-on, an occasional presence drinking beer or occupying a lawn chair while the boys worked on trucks. All the guys just called her "Melons" because of the balloon like breasts she so proudly paraded in front of her.

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Can a woman be a flirt and still be a loving wife? I say, yes, because I'm married to one! Barb and I have been married for many years. We were high school sweethearts and married young. My Barb is tall, slender, attractive, and very vivacious. She meets people easily and has seldom known a stranger. Part of what drew me to her was her flirtatious manner.

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I savored the delightful sensations of being inside Andrea as she rode up and down on my erect cock, her moist, warm, silky-smooth vaginal walls squeezing and caressing my thick shaft as she ground herself onto me along its length. Her flaming red hair swirled around her face, and her large, full tits, splashed with freckles like virtually every inch of her body, swayed up and down, and side to side, with her movements. My cock was buzzing warmly as it probed to her inmost depths.

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I watched as my wife applied the finishing touches to her lipstick and then turned to me. "Right, I'm ready now, can you give me a lift?" We headed downstairs and out to my car. It was then just a fifteen minute drive to the restaurant where Kim was meeting her boss. She worked as assistant credit controller at an engineering firm and her boss was moving to a new job in Scotland.

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I would like to tell you about how I recently celebrated my husband Alan's fiftieth birthday, as it was a life changing occasion for the both of us. My name is Brigitte and I am forty eight years old. I have been married to Alan for well over 20 years now. We get on well and as the time has passed I have got to know the deep secret places where he keeps his dreams and fantasies.

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"I don't believe it," Randi said, tying her bathrobe around herself as she walked out of her bedroom into the apartment's living room. "What's the matter?" Anna asked. "Steven... fucking... fell asleep." "Right after sex?" Calista asked.

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Caitlyn Morris held her boyfriend's hand for moral support as they made the long trek up the aisle to his teacher's desk. If this talk didn't go well, Bobby would be benched Friday night—the one night the college scout would be watching the game. Bobby didn't have a lot of options, if he didn't get recruited, he could kiss college goodbye. And with it any hope of getting out of their all-but-dead hometown.

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Chelsea hummed to herself softly as she finished typing her email, logged off of her computer, and straightened up her desk. Although she probably didn't realize, a slight smile played on her lips, and she locked up the office and walked out with a spring in her step. She couldn't wait to have a weekend out of town...with him. This was more than a vacation for her...it was an escape.

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My wife Liz and I were enjoying our new found freedom. The worries and problems of child rearing, mortgages and financial concerns, were largely in our past. We were living a life more centered on each other. Our vacations were now of our choice, we enjoyed walks together after dinner, we dined at nice restaurants instead of fast food outlets, and our sex life had blossomed.

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Living in a small town certainly has some great advantages ... and also a few disadvantages. One of those disadvantages is gossip control, or, the lack there of. Having a really tight bond within your circle of close friends is about the only way gossip can be controlled ... well, to some degree, anyway. Our little town, Websterville, had four girls, all seniors at the P. T. (actually Percival Taylor) Webster High School who were absolutely inseparable.

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