Your erotic stories

I could have sworn she was about my age. I'm 21 now, making me a dedicated observer of girl's asses and legs for the last eight years or so. I can detect the slightly-too-slender look of a hot little piece of jailbait, or the subtle signs of impending cellulite that brand most older women. So as I walked along the beach perhaps 30 feet behind the bikini-clad brunette, I never would have guessed she was old enough to be my mom.

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At what point does a preference become a fetish? I met Stella at a party. She had arrived with the critic Darian Fellini. Back then, Fellini was one of the art world's big stars. His book -- All the Naked Women -- had just come out, and everyone was talking about it. Was it art criticism? Or was it pornography? As a 19-year-old art student, I didn't really know. And I didn't really care.

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During my final year of high school my English teacher, Miss Jacobs, became pregnant. This alone is not so remarkable. The problem, however, was that Miss Jacobs was a miss and not a missus. Once the members of the school board found out about Miss Jacobs' pregnancy she was given the option of pregnancy leave (firing her was only an implied threat), after which she was shunted off to another school. Those who banished her probably thought it magnanimous of them to not sew a red A to her blouse before sending her off.

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Margaret Rose Austin -- Meg to her friends -- grinned as she stood in her kitchen and listened to the hullabaloo from across the lounge. It was her son Todd's 18th birthday, and he and his buds were noisily discussing their plans for the evening, in terms that suggested they'd forgotten there was a respectable middle-aged lady just across the hallway. Not that she minded so much; she'd known most of the boys almost since the day they were born. Heck, she reflected as she washed up the greasy plates from the chili dogs and brownies she'd made for them, she'd grown up with most of their parents.

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You're never going to believe this. Honestly. I can hardly believe it myself, it's why I absolutely HAVE to tell someone. I'm not normally like this. It's just so unbelievable. But so fucking fantastic. It's kind of like finding out you've won the sexual lottery. I'm rambling, I know, but when something like this happens to you, you'll understand why.

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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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The freight elevator seemed to be taking forever. Not that Alex was really in that much of a hurry. After all, he wasn't going anywhere for Thanksgiving. Home was too far away and he just couldn't to go home for Christmas and Thanksgiving. No, after work, all Alex had to look forward to was an empty dorm. His roommates and most of his friends that lived in the dorm had already left for their respective homes earlier in the day. But he didn't mind. Alex was actually looking forward to having the room all to himself. He liked his roommate quite a bit, but having a roommate meant having to be considerate of the other person.

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Alison May sat in her classroom, her delicate fingers tapping on the processed plastic-for-wood top of her desk. She had watched thousands of students sit in their rows as she droned the same information to them year after year. She watched them fix their eyes on the clock above the chalkboard, trying to mentally will the hands of the timepiece to move faster. This desperate act of telekinesis was a common one around the world, and she believed that it wasn't wholly unjustified on their part.

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My wife told me there was a family get-together and I needed to attend. I normally hate these affairs and try to slip out early. These people were not my blood relatives and I didn't know too many of them. I arrived on the day in question and found a seat in the pavilion that had been rented. No sooner had I sat down a group of people arrived.

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What I'm about to relate happened last week. In a sense it was the result of a dare, sort of. Let me explain. I made a new friend recently who I'll call Jean. Jean and I hit it off right away; we are so much alike, it's scary. Although we differ somewhat in age -- I'm fifty-something, she's thirty-something -- it turns out we both share a wild and naughty aspect to our personalities ... and, we both love cock.

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