Your erotic stories

My boss, Mr. Adams, calls me a nanny. He's pretty old school about things so I just let it go. I prefer the term, au pair, because it sounds so much more exotic and important. Mrs. Adams is probably the one who has the best grip on reality. She just calls me her "help." I started working for the Adams' to help pay my way through business college. Then about three months into a graphics designer degree, I decided, "Fuck it."

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Movie night at home will never be the same Je..re..my Je..re..my Such a sweet sound. "Je..remy," Mom whispered into my ear. "Mmm," I sighed, turning toward her. "Je..remy," she whispered teasingly, nibbling on my ear.

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No, No,...I didn't have them all at once. That would be too unbelievable, but I have to say that I've been the lucky sexual recipient of two sets of sisters at all different times when I was younger. The first set was Patty and Kathy, a set of hot Irish American girls. My best friend was going out with Patty at the time. I met her sister Kathy at numerous times on visits at her apartment with my friend and Patty. Patty was a little cuter as looks go but they both were 5'1' with really hot curvaceous bodies.

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It truly was a day to remember. I stepped out onto my pool deck that Saturday afternoon, aiming to bring the water up to the proper level and check the chemical balance. Three neighborhood couples would be at our home that evening to share my locally-famous smoked ribs. I wanted the pool to be crystal clear in case we decided to swim too.

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It had been a couple months since my mom and I had that first encounter in the club. Ted came home and didn't suspect anything other than the usually, it seems, since he never suspected that I had been at the club. He and my mom went that next weekend and I stayed home to watch my little sisters. It was annoying, since Anna is 19, so I don't know why I have to get tethered to Macy, the little one.

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When I saw Mrs. Crowley at the supermarket I had to smile. The woman who worked down the hall from me looked as good in her recreation clothing as she did in her business attire. That was quite a compliment, because she was always impeccable with her work clothing. Prim and proper, nothing out of place, everything put together quite nicely.

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It was getting to the end of one of those, long, miserable winter days. All day the storm clouds had been building up; black, threatening monsters heavy with rain. Although it was bitterly cold outside, the temperature inside the office that I shared with Angela was warm, even slightly too so. I watched absently out the windows as the first of the thick, heavy raindrops began to splat onto the pavement outside.

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Most of Matt's friends went to Lauderdale, or Daytona, or somewhere typical for Spring Break, looking to abandon themselves in the slick, sunscreen- and alcohol-laced musk of ten thousand horny college kids in a space too small to contain them. Matt had another plan, though--he'd head down to the smaller towns, along the Atlantic Coast. Just as much sex in the air, but better parking. I suppose, he thought, I shouldn't complain. The mile markers whipped by as Rachel goosed the accelerator on the old Chevy wagon.

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I love summer. Hot days are best. Hot, bright days that bring out beautiful women with long, smooth legs and deep cleavages. Bare shoulders and thin straps support light summer dresses and strappy sandals caress tanned ankles. Thin tops that cling to perky breasts and give a hint of nipple. Denim cut-offs that give tantalizing glimpses of the crease between thigh and buttock. Unexpected breezes that whips up the unsuspecting summery skirt, giving flashes of pale buttock and pink G-string.

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The mom's set the rules and Dad gets involved. I woke in the night, to find Aunt Marie sliding into my bed. I felt her cuddle up to me, her hand wandering mischievously. "That was mean of you, Jeremy, to let me fall asleep in the horny clutches of my son. Your Momma had him so worked up, he had to take it out on me," she pouted.

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