This entry is part 7 of 25 in the series 2013 Mar

I’d driven downstate to make a couple of sales calls, and when I found out I wouldn’t be able to see one of my customers until the following morning, I thought I’d take my old neighbors up on a standing invitation to stay with them if I was ever in town. I stopped at a gas station to ask for directions, then easily found my way to their home. My old friend Jolene was sitting outside on her front porch, and when I pulled into her driveway, I could tell that she was surprised to see me.

She gave me a big hug to welcome me, then offered me a glass of sweet iced tea and invited me to sit with her and catch up on things. She was in her seventh month of pregnancy and very excited about her first child.

After chatting for half an hour, I told Jolene I should be on my way, having decided that I didn’t want to impose on her, considering her condition.

“Oh, no!” she squealed in protest when I told her I should leave. “You have to spend the night with us,” she said. “I won’t take no for an answer. Now let me fix you a cocktail while we wait for the boys to get home.”
“Boys?” I asked. “What boys?”
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This entry is part 22 of 22 in the series 2013 Feb

Last weekend I went to a barbecue at my friend Julie’s place, and I stayed after all the other guests had left to help her clean up. I was getting ready to leave just as Julie’s 20-year-old son Vinny popped in to tell his mom he was going out and was going to stay at his friend’s place for the night. Julie asked him to take me home before he went to meet his friends. I’d walked over that afternoon, since we don’t live far apart, but since it was already dark out, and had been a long day, I was in no mood to walk all the way back. Thankfully, Vinny has always been a good boy, and he said my house was on his way, so it was no problem to take me home.

At my house, Vinny insisted on walking me right up to the door, and as we walked the short distance up the driveway, he slipped his arm around me before letting his hand slide down to grab my ass. Vinny’s an attractive guy, six-foot-two and all muscle from playing college football, and I got turned on by having this young man putting the moves on me.
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This entry is part 18 of 22 in the series 2013 Feb

I had no intention of having sex with my mom’s friend when I went to her house. I’d promised my mom I’d stop and check in on Charlotte next time I was in the area, and since I was passing through for work, I figured I should probably make mom happy.

Charlotte was a 58-year-old widow, and I was 30 at the time. I hadn’t seen her in years, not since I was in college and still lived at home, but she and my mom were close, and she’d apparently been asking about me for a while. She seemed pretty happy to see me when I stopped by, but as we sat in her living room talking, the conversation seemed to falter and die pretty quickly. Still, I didn’t want to just leave. My mom had told me how hard it had been for Charlotte after her husband died; her kids lived far away and they didn’t get home very often. So when she asked if I’d spend the night in her guestroom, I felt I should take her up on the offer. Besides, I figured that my boss would appreciate saving the money it would cost the company to put me up in a hotel for the night.
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This entry is part 15 of 22 in the series 2013 Feb

I’m a 23-year-old guy paying his way through college by maintaining a small lawn-care and gardening business. I have about 20 customers, which really keeps me busy. I also work out a lot and do some mixed martial arts training when I have some spare time, so I’m in really good shape.

Recently, I was approached by a middle-aged man who had just lost his gardener. He said a friend of his had referred me. I told him I was so busy that I really shouldn’t take on any more customers, but he offered me an extra $75 a week, so I couldn’t refuse.

The first time I went to his house, I realized that it wouldn’t be a hard job at all and would be fairly easy money. I was done in less than 90 minutes and quickly moved on to my next customer. The second time I went there, I met the guy’s wife, an older woman, maybe in her late 50s. She had long blonde hair and wore a pair of tight jean shorts and a cream-colored, spaghetti-strap top that showed off her tits. She had a nice enough body for a woman her age, and I figured that she was probably pretty sexy about 10 years ago. She came outside to watch me, a glass of wine in her hand.
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This entry is part 12 of 19 in the series 2013 Jan

When my husband returned from his annual fishing trip with his best childhood friend, he asked what I thought about Ted’s 19-year-old son coming to stay with us when he got out of school for summer vacation. Ted had told him that Ben had worked for him the year before, but it hadn’t gone well because felt he didn’t have to do much since he was the boss’s son. Steve said he could put Ben to work in his auto shop and figured he would have to get things done since it would be a real job as opposed to working with his father. “But only if you agree,” he said when he told me his idea. I said it was fine.

My husband leaves for work before five in the morning and gets home between six and seven every night, so I agreed to take Ben to and from work each day because I had the summer off from my job as a teacher. Ted and Steve also made a list of rules for Ben, including having to clean his own room and do his own laundry, since he still lived at home and usually had his mother do things; Ted wanted his son to learn how to be a man.
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