Your erotic stories

Skyler pulled the truck over to the side of the gravel road and stepped out. He didn't have much of a cell signal to begin with, and he knew it was worse inside the truck. The call went through, and his father answered in a weary voice, "Hello?"

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A beautiful, outraged, and thirty-nine year old brunette with an elfin face, full lips, clean white skin that dove past her neck into an ample vertical line of cleavage, and authentic silk stockings – the seams of which climbed upward in a perfectly straight line from her trim ankles to disappear under the hem of her professional, side-slit skirt – swept down the long, richly carpeted corridor of the sixty-ninth floor like a small tornado, sweeping a cheap imitation dynasty pitcher from an expensive walnut sidetable with a vicious blow from her open hand and pausing not at all as it cracked like an egg on the plastered wall and tumbled to the floor.

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I gasped in surprise as I felt the cock force its way into my wet cunt. I knew it was big, but was not expecting it to feel so big. After all, my cunt was not as tight fitting as it used to be when I was younger. I was 57 years old, and had been around the block a bit during my time. I'd been married and divorced 3 times – and to be honest each divorce was my fault entirely – I'd whored myself around quite a bit and acted like a total slag.

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The young man in front of me seemed completely baffled by the self-checkout computer thingy. Having finally mastered the obnoxious device myself, albeit over a long time and with great difficulty and frustration, I felt compelled to step forward and assist the poor lad. I guess I wasn't being altogether altruistic since the store clerk assigned to the cluster of self-checkout stations was, as usual, nowhere to be found. So, if I wanted to get out of the discount store during my lifetime, I needed to help the young man.

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ONE Randi surveyed the large hotel suite as the bellboy took care of her luggage. The room offered two plush queen beds and a large front living area with two leather couches, a wet-bar with a marble top and a gas fireplace. She tipped the belloy handsomely even though she caught him openly leeering at her on numerous occasions. Although in her late forties with two children in school, Randi Boehmon could still turn heads. A petite woman with long blonde hair and piercing blue eyes set above high cheekbones, she was oftentimes told that she resembled Kelly Ripa.

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All characters depicted are 18 years of age or above. The author does not encourage or condone the activities described within. * Landon didn't exactly know what he expected prom night to be, but sitting in his gangly, pimple-faced friend Mark's den watching a porn film about naughty cheerleaders definitely wasn't what he had hoped for or envisioned.

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My friend Gail came home from work one day, entering the backyard through the gate as she usually did when she heard people in the pool. She expected to see her daughter. Dena, and some friends lounging or swimming. That is basically what she saw, but there was also something she never expected. Paul was standing between two lounge chairs where Dena and her friend Lana sat laughing and staring. Gail immediately saw what they were staring at.

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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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I met Brian Carmichael in early July. I remember this because it was almost a week after my fifth birthday. I was in the driveway of our yard, playing with a Tonka dump truck and bulldozer that my Uncle Jake had bought me for my birthday. I looked up and saw a small black dog (a Labrador retriever, I later found out) run across our lawn. The dog wandered over to me, his tongue hanging out and his tail wagging.

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I had just gotten out of the shower, blow-dried my hair and was lying on the bed lightly running a finger between my moistening pussy lips when the doorbell rang. I groaned in frustration. I wanted so bad to touch my pussy and cum. As usual, after trying to entice my husband the night before, I went to bed without a cock. For some months now, Jim hadn't touched me once, and I was sure it was because of another woman.

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