Your erotic stories

Standing at the mirror, Sandy brushed back the stray hair from her face. Then she stepped closer and frowned at the reflection looking back at her. When did the wrinkles appear? Had they always been so deep? Her friends told her she could pass for 40, but she knew they were just being nice. The mirror didn't lie, and it was telling her she looked every one of her fifty-one years.

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Standing in the doorway, she watched the sweat drip down the gardener's chest. The tall, muscular man, had stopped beside the mower and wiped his brow off with a well-tanned arm. She waited restlessly for him to notice that she was standing at the door in a cropped T-shirt and a pair of tiny white underwear. She had been trying to get the man's attention all day.

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Life certainly has its ups and downs as everyone can attest to. It just feels like my life has had more downs than ups over the past few years. For instance, my parents had been killed in an auto accident three years ago when I was twenty-three. A semi-truck had veered into their lane when the overworked driver fell asleep at the wheel hitting my parent's car head-on. The doctors assured me that they had died instantly, which was a blessing I guess.

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The early morning flight settled softly onto the runway rousing us from our light slumber, the heat of the day burst into the cabin as the main doors opened and the fragrant smells of the island filled the air. We made our way out, gathered our luggage, & shuffled through customs before we finally climbed into our rental car. Kate navigated as we made our way across the island the small beachside villa we'd rented.

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Chapter One Pamela watched the pick-up truck pull into her drive and wiped her flour-covered hands on her apron; her hired hand was here. Her husband had passed away three years ago and she had milked their prize herd all by herself as well tended the farm's crops. For all her hard work she'd finally managed to make the last payment on the small farm and this year opted to hire a full-time summer employee.

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"So, what are you going to do for a living?" Vivian asked the young man who was visiting along with her son from college. "I'm retired," Paul Redman replied with a grin. "Uh, you're kind of young for that aren't you?" Vivian asked in confusion. "Yes ma'am, I am." Vivian's son, Cal, said, "Paul was a millionaire by the time he graduated high school." "More like five million," Paul corrected. "Five million by the time you graduated high school! You must be some kind of a genius," Vivian said in shock. She had never met anyone worth that much money.

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I have always loved women. There is just something delightful about femininity and female-ness that has always resonated with me. Even as a child, I found it easier to make friends with girls than with boys. Oh, sure, I played on the sports teams, and engaged in the same kind of rough-and-tumble as the other boys, but females seemed to draw something deeper out of me, something thoughtful, and deeper than just scoring touchdowns, or hitting home runs.

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Bette and I had different travel schedules, so I couldn't see her again for a couple of months. We both had booths at that last big fair of the season, though, and planned to get together then. "And this time," she told me, "I'll get us a real room." My camper-van is fine for just me but not the best for entertaining a lady, even if it had given us a magical first time together.

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Since my husband passed away a few years ago I haven't been in a significant relationship. It didn't find any joy in going through the process of finding a man, figuring out if I liked him, and if he liked me, and then determining what we both wanted from each other. My marriage with my husband had been fantastic. We got along well and raised two wonderful children. We had a great, although not wild, sex life. We were both very passionate, but not compulsive.

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It was going to be a long day, as Saturdays usually were. The weather was beautiful outside, which made me all the more bitter for being stuck at work. Library patrons always seemed more demanding on Saturday afternoons and doubly so on nice ones. They'd simply wave and beckon on me to attend to their needs. A dude has a to have a pretty strong stomach to deal with some of these people. The homeless people and the whores are always hooking up in this place.

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