Your erotic stories

I was feeling dejected. The latest girl I had asked to the Sweetheart Dance, had rejected me out of hand. At twenty-two, I wasn't a bad looking guy it's just that the local Monterey women had plenty of men stationed at Fort Ord from which to choose.

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I'm going to do what they say people of my age (the thick end of sixty plus) are best at; I'm going reminisce about my youth. For me this was towards the end of the nineteen-fifties, when rock-and-roll ruled over drainpipe trousers and drape jackets and everyone jived to Elvis, Little Richard, Chuck Berry, etc. In England it was the time of the 'ton-up boy' who rode motorbikes with British names and who wore leather jackets liberally sprinkled with metal studs.

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I've always felt attracted to younger men. Some time ago, there was family living next to me in our small neighborhood. This was several years after my husband had died. I'd finally begun to feel somewhat whole again and yet the loneliness was getting me down. I had sexual cravings I hadn't felt in a long time and thought I'd go crazy if they weren't satisfied by someone, and soon.

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The day I slept late that July was unforgettable. I had just graduated high school and was gently preparing to go off to college, but mainly that summer I was relaxing – sleeping late and not having many plans. My sister was travelling somewhere in Europe and my parents were both working long days, probably thinking about my college expenses. We also had a house guest for a few weeks that summer. Leigh Chandler was an old friend of my mother's from her college days. Leigh had recently started a new job in town and was staying with us while she looked for an apartment.

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Several pictures of her were tucked into the sides of the mirror over his dresser. Most were school pictures, and one was of the two of them together, their arms wrapped around each other, both of them smiling at the camera. My hand, holding the brush that I had picked up from amidst the clutter on his dresser, stopped in mid-air as I peered at those pictures.

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He looked across again. It was definitely Mrs Jackson - Rhonda - from the house next door. Divorced, kids off at summer camp, and looking red hot in her short summer dress. She looked uncomfortable, too, because the trucker had obviously had too much to drink and was pawing at her. Jerry turned to his friends who were playing pool.

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The young man beside her was silent, lost in his own morose thoughts. Ginny concentrated on the icy highway in front of them, a hint of apprehension gripping her as they approached the Eisenhower Tunnel. Even though she had lived in the Rockies for sixteen years and made the drive from Vail to Denver weekly, this particular stretch of Interstate 70, approaching the Continental Divide, never failed to frighten her. Once more she wished she'd brought her husband's four-wheel drive, if only because it sat up higher and gave a better view.

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"Thank god that's over," said Liz as we tidied away the presentation material. "Hey, you were great," I said. "Never missed a beat." And she hadn't. Liz Morton, from head office. Fortyish, maybe ten or twelve years older than me, but slim and attractive in her tailored suit. She smiled. "Nor did you, on the technical queries."

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I was still getting used to being on my own. My wife and I had divorced almost a year ago and when she packed up and moved out, it was the first time in many years that I had no one else to think of as I planned whatever it is that I would be doing. I had been in a funk recently but could feel that time had begun to work its healing magic and I was getting ready to renter life amongst the living. I had bought my wife out as part of the settlement and managed to keep the house but unfortunately since the divorce, I had lost interest in the yard and it showed.

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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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