Your erotic stories

I was just entering second year of college and decided to rent a room instead of going back to residence. It was so noisy there and the food sucked. So I thought finding a room would be better. Checking the Student Housing Office on campus I found a couple of places that seemed interesting. After checking them out, I decided to take the room at Mrs. Johnson's house. Mrs. Johnson, or Mary as she wanted me to call her, was about 60. She had a full time job but needed the extra cash from my rent to make ends meet.

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I showed up at the Fisher's house to baby sit in my typical summer outfit of white tennis shorts and a t shirt. Although I had turned eighteen months ago and was about to graduate from high school, I didn't mind babysitting for them. They had a big TV, well-behaved kids, well-stocked fridge and Joanie, their mom, was not only gorgeous, but as I had learned from the occasions when I saw her in a tennis dress and from looking at their vacation beach pictures, she had a great bod!

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I couldn't believe my luck – all my friends were going down to the beach, and I had to help my parents with a BBQ they were throwing. I had tried all the excuses I could think of but they weren't buying it. 'I've paid for you to study at University for 2 years Dan' my father said, 'it's the least you can do.' So I eventually gave in and agreed to help with the cooking and drinks.

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PRELUDE Louise Connor took me by the hand and led me over the doorway with the mistletoe hanging overhead. She took me in her arms and kissed me driving her tongue deep into my mouth. Then she released the lip lock on me and dropped to her knees in front of me. I remained still as Louise unbuckled my belt and unfastened my trousers. She took her time and then lowered them down past my knees. I could feel my cock rising to the occasion and my boxer shorts tented in evidence of my excitement.

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The bookstore was crowded with last minute holiday shoppers. I stood in a long checkout line and finally worked my way up to the front and was able to pay for my items. I was purchasing a few last minute presents, as well as, a book for myself. The checkout girl scanned the bar code on my book, then looked up at me with a knowing smile after noting the title of the thick volume.

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Helen was a little surprised when the doorbell rang at precisely nine a.m., exactly when the contractor had told her that the workers would arrive to build her new deck. She was even more surprised when she opened the door and saw two young men who couldn't be more than twenty years old.

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I think it's probably safe to say that most people have at least two distinct sexual memories; losing their virginity, and the best sex they ever experience. For a variety of reasons, the two events are usually distinct and separate. Most people recall losing their virginity with fondness for obvious reasons, but will admit the awkwardness of the first time encounter, based usually on the lack of experience on the part of one or both participants.

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Brad was an only child. He was six years old when his mom, Karoline, died in an accident. He had fond memories of his mom, especially of the one summer he spent in Northern California at her family's beach-front home. Often, he looked at a photo taken on a beach that showed him being hugged by his mother and a woman with long neck and legs. The woman called him, Berde, a Danish name. After his father remarried, he did not have a good relationship with his step mother, Brigitte. He saw her as an immature and selfish woman.

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My eyes open hesitantly - struggling to adjust to the early morning sun filtering in through the bedroom curtains. I let out a small groan as I reached across the nightstand at the side of the bed in an effort to turn the alarm clock in my direction so that I could see what time it was. I froze in mid-reach when my mind finally processed the fact that I was completely naked and in somebody else's bedroom. It came rushing back to me in a hurry why nearly every muscle in my body was protesting with my every movement. I slowly turned my head, hoping that it had all been a fevered dream.

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Patterson and I had just ordered a pizza when his phone rang. He glanced at the Caller ID window and looked up as the waitress brought us a pitcher of beer. "Sorry, dude," he said. "I need to take this one. It's Mom." He looked away and lowered his voice as he turned his attention to the call. I tried to pretend I was suddenly interested in the clever "Go Tigers!" declarations hanging on the walls of Sal's Pizza.

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