Your erotic stories

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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I suppose after awhile we usually know whether a relationship is going to last a long time, or maybe even forever. After a few months of going out with Caroline, I knew in my heart that we weren't destined for the long haul. Even though Caroline was a good looking girl, I wasn't too concerned. At the ripe old age of twenty four, I'd no intention of settling down unless Miss World came knocking on my door, and that wasn't likely.

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"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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Editor's Note: story contains nonconsentual sex. * The only time that wrestling comes to our small city and my best buddy Kerry can't make it, I called around trying to find someone else who wanted to go. Coming up empty with every call, I sat on the couch with my other two buddies' Bobby and Mike.

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I was randy as hell one day and made up my mind I was going to get laid that afternoon, one way or another. If I had to drive into to town and pick up someone at a bar, I would. But first, I had decided I would see if I could attract someone locally. My beach house is rather isolated. It's the only one for about half a mile in either direction. I know this will change over time. This undiscovered barrier island on the Gulf Coast will eventually be over developed and become like all the rest -- an over crowded tourist venue.

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My preference is for stories are all about the sex rather than with vast amounts of background, so this is in that vein. The plot is based loosely on a story I read many, many years ago; I don't recall the author or title. I'd love to say this happened to me but that would be ludicrous: the scenario is a sexual fantasy and not meant to be completely realistic.

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I have had a fetish for panties ever since I was about 18. I would sneak into my mother's panty draw whenever I got a chance. She had many pairs of all different colours and materials but my favourite were her silky panties. Thongs didn't really do it for me as there isn't enough material to rub over my cock.

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"Don't worry about it" the young blonde woman said as the older man rolled off her naked body muttering. "Fuck it, I'm sorry Sammi." "Bob it doesn't matter, please don't beat yourself up. It's only a fuck." They had been in bed for an hour or so. The fifty seven year old married man had made the twenty four year old single girl cum three times; once with his fingers as he undressed her standing behind her with his hands in her panties and twice with his mouth as he made awesome, well she though it was, oral love to her.

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I stood in front of Mrs. Moffit's room door, hesitating. I had asked her if I could stop by after the evening orientation, and find out what I'd missed at the group meeting. I was the only student from our team who had entered both a team and individual event and advanced to the national level competition in both. Now the time issues that arose from competing twice were starting to catch up with me.

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Memory triggers. They come rushing at you when you least suspect them. You can walk into a house and take in the heady aroma of a cake being baked and you'll be transported back to your grandmother's kitchen. You can smell an empty beer bottle and suddenly there you are playing hide and seek behind a pile of your uncle's empties. Smell is our most powerful sense and we all have a repertoire of aromatic triggers nicely tucked away in that gluggy grey mass we call a brain.

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