Your erotic stories

My wife's daughter came to visit for the holidays. It's a second marriage for both of us; she has two kids by a previous marriage, and I have three. Susan, her daughter, is in her late twenties and has never married. She's had a few close calls, but for one reason or another, things just never seemed to work out.

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Pulling into the drive way Michael noticed nearly every light in the house was on, which was quite a feat, considering the amount of rooms. He braked outside the garage, staring at the house, wondering what was going on before he remembered Anna's Christmas party. He wasn't supposed to be home for it, but had flown back a day early from Berlin. It had been a disastrous romantic getaway, and one he was happy to cut short. Anna was sure to be disappointed that her dad was back to ruin the party and he briefly considered checking into a hotel for the night.

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I stood at the door with my colorfully wrapped gift. I had just rung the doorbell a minute before and was waiting patiently. I'm 19 years old and it was my friend Janet's 20th birthday, and she was having a birthday party that evening. Nothing huge, a few of her relatives and a few friends, but I had been looking forward to it nonetheless.

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Mr. Pearson was away on travel again. I had met him about four weeks ago and borrowed some money from him to fix my car, well anyway, when I tried to repay him, he said it was a gift and to just forget it. That's when I asked him if there were some way I could sort of work it off by doing some sort of jobs for him.

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Michael Richter sighed as he looked at his watch and realised he was home late, again. Alison would already be out at her fundraising thing, and the babysitter would be dressing their son Jonah, after his bath. He should have left work an hour earlier but the account manager had called him into her office just as he was leaving. Penelope was the best manager he'd ever had, and though she had a reputation for having high expectations, he figured she had every right to: she had built a strong team and worked hard to keep her people happy, knowing how important morale was to a business.

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Booches was one of the most popular campus hangouts being only three blocks away from the large public university. It was a quiet bar where businessmen, students and professors felt equally at home. The food menu was scant consisting of little more than burgers but the owner always seemed to make everyone feel welcome and he was silent about who met who and did what with whom.

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I don't know why I never thought of this before. It's really just so obvious. I'm a very successful lawyer. My work is all involved with corporate litigation. I've made literally hundreds of millions of dollars. One reason that I've been so successful is that my work is my life. I enjoy it, I'm extremely diligent. I've remained a bachelor, on purpose. I truly love sex with females but I have no interest in giving my life over to someone else. It has always been relatively easy for me to find female companionship.

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This story has only marginally incestuous themes although it involves a naked voyeuristic grandfather and his bi-sexual granddaughter in the same bed. *** When 68 year old Edgar Whitney went over to put in his daughter's storm windows for the winter, he thought he was going just to do his daughter a favor. After Anne's husband took off for greener pastures a couple years ago and pretty much disappeared from his wife and daughter's lives save the occasional support check, Edgar had tried to help out around the house whenever he could.

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To the average outsider, Paul had the world at his feet at the age of thirty. He'd been in charge of the entertainment agency since his father passed away four years earlier. He had a beautiful, spacious office that showed the city's skyline behind his desk, fine, mahogany furniture, with a imported leather couch in one corner. He drove a vintage Mercedes, lived in a dazzling condo in the best part of the city, and money seemed endless.

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I'm lying in bed mid-afternoon daydreaming trying to catch forty winks after a gruelling nightshift, almost deliriously tired but still can't seem to drift off to sleep. I feel wired, buzzed, but I can't quite put my finger on why. I try putting my finger downstairs to relieve some tension but even orgasmic release seems to be just beyond me at the moment. It's just then, with one hand down my panties and one playing with my breast that I hear a knock on the door.

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