Your erotic stories

You and I had been friends for quiet some time, sharing a common bond in subversive, dumb comedies, quirky cartoons and a general agreement that laughing a lot is the best way to spend out your life to zero in this world. We met through our jobs awhile back; your flashing eyes and warm smile put me at easy the very first day. Finding out that we had so much in common had been a bonus and so it became very easy for us to fall into a comfortable friendship.

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I was at Steve's place having a beer and a chat; I heard the front door open, and the voices of Steve's wife Judy and daughter Becky came in. They had been out to measure up some things in a flat that Becky had bought. Both came in and I stood up to say hi, I receive the usual kiss on the cheek, and hug from Judy and then from Becky as well, as she said, jumping up and down, "Hi Bob, nice to see you, it's been a while, how you doin?"

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It started with a telephone call, a couple of weeks ago, one of my former girlfriends called Christine, inviting me to her birthday party. I had nothing else planned for the evening, and accepted the invitation. When I walked into the venue, an upstairs room at a local pub, Christine was leaning on the bar, ordering drinks. She was wearing a very short, mini skirt, her long shapely legs were parted, and her J. Lo like arse, was pushed back, Christine, was on the pull.

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I couldn't believe that my mother had "volunteered" me to help one of her church friends. I barely knew the woman and was just back from a long road trip to a rock concert two states away. I was tired and only wanted to sleep but my mother figured it would be good for me to help her friend move into her new apartment. She had even made travel arrangements that I knew nothing about until she shook me awake that morning.

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They were friends - good friends - the kind of friends who had known each other for ten years and seen each other during the good and bad times of their lives. He had lusted after her since their early teens, but she had never looked his way twice...until now. It was in the heat of summer and working late nights in the store had taken their toll on the slender redhead and she was longing for someone to come in and give her a night to remember.

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I'm out cycling; I generally cycle most weekends, usually with a friend, but today I'm on my own. I'm going fairly fast along a winding country road; I see a few parked cars on my side of the road ahead of me. I look around to see if it's safe to pull out and avoid the cars. As I look forward again, I see a car door, sweeping open in front of me, thinking - what the hell - where the hell did that come from. I try to swerve around it, but 'nop', I catch the edge of the door and this throws me off my bike, bike one way, me another, rolling a few times until I end up in a small pond.

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The doorbell rang and I went to answer it, it was Tas. Tas has come to see why my broadband was not working. A little bit about me first. Let's start with my name. I'm Louisa, but you can call me Lou; everyone does, even Tas. I'm fifty three and have been a widow for three years. Yes my husband died the day after my fiftieth birthday. He had a stroke. We did make love the night before.

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"Go piss off and walk your fucking dog!" My girlfriend shouted at me for coming home drunk late last night. My girlfriend and I share a flat. A new place we recently moved into and a new neighbourhood for us. And as you have gathered, we have, well it's my dog. I had slept most of the day and it was around six o'clock Friday evening. Yeah I know, lazy bastard. Well we both had a few days off work for the move. It was Friday, and we also had the weekend off. I was out with a few mates drinking, chatting, drinking, eyeing up girls, drinking... you know what young men get up to in their early twenties.

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"YOU PRICK! YOU FUCKING PRICK!!!" Kaylee stood frozen in the bedroom door. Her arms were rigid at her side; her fists were clenched as she watched her sister dive off of Kaylee's fiancé's rapidly deflating cock. He laid there, too shocked to move, while her sister tried to hide beneath the sheets.

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I had seen him around the halls a few times, but he had only smiled weakly at me and glanced at the ground. For the longest time I didn't even know his name. I assumed he must be an adjunct professor at my prestigious graduate school; he dressed professional, and his silver hair was a clue to his age bracket. For the life of me, I do not understand why he was so intriguing. He stood about six feet tall, and his body-type was that of a wrestler or rugby player;

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