Your erotic stories

'Knock knock', Ron's knuckles tapped against the glass. There was no movement. 'Knock Knock', he tried again, looking at the handle on the door. Stepping back, he peered up at the top windows. The only sound of life was the sound of a police siren a couple of streets over. Spattering rain annoyed his eyes. He tapped on the glass panel of the front door again, and ran his nails over the flaking paint on the wall of the porch, picking at chunks.

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I’ve developed a real familiarity which Charlie. He was in my class years ago. We stayed friendly. He’s been cutting my lawn for 7 or 8 years now and its no big deal for him to just pop in the house and use the bathroom or raid the fridge for a soda when he’s done doing the lawn. Over the Years I’ve been watching him develop and grow up from a scrawny 10-year-old kid to 6’5” 175lb. Mountain of athletic muscle He’s the blond all-American boy with big broad shoulders.

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