Your erotic stories

"What do you think I should do about him?" I asked my slightly younger sister Tina. "What do I think you should do?...... Get him in the house, fuck his young brains out and send him home until your ready for another go. That's what I'd do." "Why do I even bother talking to you. Your incorrigible. Besides, I'm old enough to be his grandmother."

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Summer vacation was winding down fast, taking with it the last vestiges of freedom that my sisters and I had been so thoroughly enjoying. All too soon, I would be starting my senior year in high school and it would be back to dull grind of boring routine. "Samuel T. Young, you need a haircut, young man!"

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It was too early, and the graying sky illuminated dully through the bedroom windows. The world was quiet, probably still asleep. Nothing could be heard except for the sound of the rain gently falling. It was as if I could hear every single drop for miles echo in my ears as it splashed to the ground. I stretched and rolled over, snuggling myself against the soft warm skin occupying the space next to me.

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INTRODUCTION The summer I was sent to Mountain Farm, I was in my late teens (19). A had for a couple of years already been soiling the sheets with my nightly juices almost every night and my attention to schoolwork and helping out at home had become more and more distracted by my growing and constantly aching cock and balls. The actual trigger was when my mother surprised me twice one afternoon when I was happily stroking my member in the family bathroom but had forgotten to lock the door.

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1. When Trixie Ann got home (late, after her MBA class), she first checked on Judy, her daughter and Eddie, her son. They were asleep and did not wake when she straightened their covers and kissed them softly on the cheek. Then she made her way quietly to the master bedroom. Her husband Alan was already in bed. He greeted her sleepily and rolled over.

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Five years ago my wife Sue and I left behind the dark, dank climate and the economic and political doom and gloom of England in search of a new life in the beautiful, peaceful and sunny Languedoc region of the South of France. Both of us are keenly interested in good food, cooking, and enjoying the odd glass or three of wine.

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Late one afternoon a few summers ago, and just before dusk, the door bell rang. I must tell you that I was a pretty miffed at the time. My wife, Betty, was away visiting her sister in Boston -- we're both retired -- and I had the house all to myself. I was enjoying some really hot porn on my computer, which I usually have to sneak around to watch when Betty is home since she finds the stuff disgusting. So, the interruption was not welcome.

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Alan Bryant emerged from the cabin of his boat to see Joseph, the local lad who he employed part -time, turning his charm on another teenage tourist. Alan smiled to himself, while restraining a twinge of envy; Joseph was thirty-five years his junior, but that wasn't the only reason why the kid was so good at getting into the skimpy bikinis of young female holiday-makers.

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"No! For the last time, will you shut-up about this?" Rachel was scowling at her boyfriend who was laying in bed beside her. Dan still retained a mildly smug expression after their sex which had finished some minutes ago, although the truth was she had faked her orgasm. She wasn't proud of that but Dan always liked to make a big deal about making her climax and it was far easier to let him feel this way. Like many women she didn't often orgasm through penetration.

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I didn't realise she was one of three sisters. Sharon had invited me home for supper---pot luck, she said---because I was temporarily on my own. I was eighteen at the time, and I'd never been invited out by a girl before. So I was quite surprised when it turned out there were four of us for supper. Three of the most beautiful women I could ever hope to meet, and ugly me.

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