Your erotic stories

Jake was 18 years old. For all intensive purposes he was normal. Except for one itty bitty thing. He wanted to sleep with his mom. This disturbed Jake to no end. It certainly wasn't normal and made him feel awkward around her. His mom was none the wiser. Being a very open and liberal mother didn't help his appetite at all, especially since she would often walk around their house in nothing but a shirt and her panties. Every time Jake would see this he'd have to control himself. Every now and then she'd give him an innocent hug, but to him it wasn't so innocent. He'd steal a chance to brush her butt, or her boobs. He'd pat her back to see if she was wearing a bra. She rarely did in the mornings.

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Dedicated to the sexy lady who taught me this phrase: fact dragoste cu tine. Diane, a 44 year old housewife, was happy with her life except for the fact that she felt like a servant in her own home from time to time. This Saturday morning was one of those times as her husband was out playing golf with his buddies and her kids were still in bed. Meanwhile, she was stuck doing the chores.

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My friends always told me that my mom was a Milf. When I was younger, I used to feel embarrassed by this and I got into fights, even lost some friends. Over the years, I changed my mind, especially when my mom got divorced for the second time, and I was stuck taking care of my family like the man of the house. Playing the role of dad to two sisters, I began to see what my friends were seeing in my mother. I didn't tell her that, of course, and so I missed my chance for anything once she got remarried.

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It is the middle of the night and Jon Mason returns from the bathroom. Sara sleeps on her back and the bright moonlight filters through the curtains casting a soft glow across her body. Through the open window, he can hear the roar of the surf. The sheet, wadded and tossed towards the bottom of the bed, leaves just one of her feet covered.

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My folks celebrated their 30 anniversary on Saturday with an evening at a posh restaurant, then home for a bit of nookie. (I know because I could hear them!) I think they thought I was out, as Mom was more vocal than usual. Sunday was spent relaxing as we all had an early start on Monday, Mom (50yrs)and I (25 yrs) were dropping Dad (51yrs) at the airport at 5 am, (He was away on a business trip for a few days.)

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After finishing work for the day I headed over to mom's, where you had spent the day cooking with mom. Since dad passed you had been going over weekly to cook and hang out. I walked right in and heard laughter right away. Apparently you guys had gotten into some wine and we're both a little tipsy.

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My heart started to pick up speed as the bus got closer and closer to Brawly. The road was framed with beautiful fields of green and yellow. Tractors and trailers were moving around carrying farm supplies and farm workers to their designated destinations. Many fields were shimmering under the bright afternoon sun, indicating the presence of water as the irrigation canals emptied into them. Rows of white birds were spread all over those fields, searching for food and maybe even socializing at the local watering holes.

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As might be expected, dinner that evening at the DeVries household was somewhat awkward. Christopher picked hesitantly at his pasta, not trusting his stomach. He just couldn't settle down. His heart would palpitate for twenty minutes at a stretch, and just as he'd start to relax he'd think of the delights he might earn in the next few months, and the whole process began again. He was getting exhausted just sitting.

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The tickets were originally for my mother and her close friend. They were set to go on a cruise ship and explore different exotic islands during the peak of summer. Unfortunately, mom's friend had a last minute issue at work, and she had to cancel a few days before the trip was supposed to start. The tickets were non-refundable. My mother tried to find someone else to go with her, but since most of her friends are also lawyers, none of them could go on such short notice.

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My name is Jacob. I am 21 and I work as a materials handling specialist for a Chicago construction company. It pays very well, and while not always the most exciting job in the world it does have it's moments, like the time we ordered 500 toilet seals and received 500 toilet seats. But I digress. This story is about my Senior Prom. I had just turned 18 at the time and was dating this beautiful young woman named Stella. Blonde, blue eyed, 46 DD with a nice big ass. She was the object of my teen angst.

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