Your erotic stories

"Nice day to wash a car isn't it?" Dean walked up the driveway seeing his friend's mother in cut-off jean shorts and a black bikini top washing the car. "Oh yeah! Nice and sunny out this morning!" She replied back with a smile while pulling the soapy sponge out of the bucket of water. "Hank home?" He tried his best keeping his eyes off her body if she just happened to look over his way while talking.

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"So?" Jason asked as he rolled up at the bottom of the drive on his mountain bike. Robert held up his phone, showing the message from his older brother with two specifically capitalized words in an otherwise innocuous message — care package. "Sweet. Let's roll." The pair set out on the gravel road, riding even deeper into the middle of nowhere. Living out in the country certainly had its disadvantages, but there were a few things that helped offset the boredom and inconvenience. One of them was the lack of prying eyes.

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When I was little I used to sit outside with my Grandmother on her wide front porch and we would dream about what we would do to the gardens one day. It was one of my favorite things to do with her when I was visiting. My parents died when I was in my early twenties and my Grandmother was all I had left. Eventually I moved to New York City and made my life there, becoming a very successful writer. I had more money than I knew what to do with and I would send her checks, telling her to make her special garden.

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On a very hot and unreasonably humid summer day around the middle of August, I found myself on the receiving end of Mrs. Nadine Broome's affections. I was mowing her lawn that day because their regular groundsman was off sick and word was getting about that my services were excellent and highly recommended. The lawn covered approximately 6 acres alongside the River Thames. In some ways it looked more like a bowling green than anything else, Rob always mowed and groomed it to perfection.

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I love summer time. Especially the clothes. Naomi was wearing those short shorts over her bikini. You know the type, the ones that would show off the color of her panties if she went for the full-bottom briefs. She even decided to forgo a shirt over her top. I'd pulled on a muscle shirt with my suit and we were off for a day at the beach.

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Rick pulled up into the drive after an especially hard day at the power plant, glad that he'd tacked an extra day off onto his vacation. He was exhausted — ready for a shower and a lazy weekend. Loud music greeted him as soon as he opened the car door. He shook his head and chuckled, making his way to the door.

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Summer classes had always been a drag for me. The students were always more captivated by the rays of sunlight crashing through foggy classroom windows than with my explanations on how context was one of the most important aspects to master when translating a literary work. And more often than not the students were as fogged up as the windows were as they fought off the haze of the previous night's partying. Not that I blames them -- there were still parts of my early days attending university that were a blur.

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