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Steamy-Stories

Steamy-Stories

By: Steamy Stories
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Explicit short stories of intimacy and passion.2003-2022 Biographies & Memoirs Hygiene & Healthy Living Social Sciences
Episodes
  • Offers I Couldn't Refuse: Part 2

    Offers I Couldn't Refuse: Part 2
    Jan 10 2026
    Offers I Couldn't Refuse: Part 2 My Wife’s Mob Kin Folk. Offers I Couldn't Refuse: Part 1. Ditzy Donna and Ralphie's first Christmas. Based on a post by Kirk 48 2002, in 2 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connected. There was a crash in the living room and Paulie Toucan's head popped in the semi open door. "Hey you love birds, where you want the tree?" Three more heads looked around the door. Donna and I scrambled for our clothes. "Don't get dressed on my account," said the pickpocket. "Don't you believe in knocking? What broke out there?" I asked, shielding Donna from their gaze as she got decent. "Did something break?" asked the stupid looking one. "I heard something smash," I replied, pushing my way out to the living room. There was the tree, or part of the tree sitting in the room on top of my glass top coffee table that now was in a thousand pieces. The top part of the tree was still out the door in the hallway and out the common entry door. "I thought you said you were going to cut it," I said furiously. "We are. We needed to measure first. Okay boys, start measuring," Toucan said. "Why didn't you leave it outside until it was cut?" asked Donna, now fully dressed. "We're not gonna cut it outside and wake everybody up. That wouldn't be nice," said the one that looked smarter than he probably was. "Look what you did to my table!" I shouted. "Shush. you'll wake the neighbors," said Stupid. "We need to cut it right here," said the pickpocket, putting the measuring tape away. Toucan dug a circular saw out from under three and plugged it in. I didn't think it would be any louder than a vacuum cleaner, but I didn't count on it being one from hell. "What's this thing made of, it won't cut," shouted Paulie. He tried again and smoke started wafting up from the tree trunk, but as far as cutting it, not a scratch. "That's a new blade, I just put it on before we came over," screamed the smart looking one over the din. I noticed that we were getting an audience at the doorway. I looked outside and could see more and more lights going on the other buildings as the saw wailed on. Sure enough, one of our township's finest was suddenly standing in my place with his arms crossed. That's usually not a good sign. Paulie noticed the man in dark blue and said, "Hi Tony. You want to take a look at this thing. I can't get it to cut." "Shit, somebody called the cops," I complained. "Nobody called this in, I heard it, driving by." He turned his attention to Paulie. "Why are you doing this at three o'clock in the morning?" "This was supposed to be a one and done deal, as a favor to the little lady," he replied, pointing to Donna. "But it won't cut." He kicked the tree. "Let me see the thing," said Tony. "Pull the plug and get me a screwdriver. Who put the blade on this thing?" "I did," said the smart-looking one, all proud of himself. "You're an idiot," stated the cop, as if it were as plain as the nose on Toucan's face. See, I called that one. "You put it on backwards." Tony made the switch and said, "Plug it in and try that." Paulie tried again, and the saw cut through the tree like a hot knife through butter. "Hey, thanks Tony," said Toucan. "You done making noise now?" Tony asked. "Yep, all done," I said, wishing everyone would go away. Tony left, and eventually so did the crowd. Between the six of us, we managed to get the tree up, transfer the decorations, the lights, and clean up the shattered coffee table. Paulie asked the boys to wait for him outside and turned his attention back to us. "Sorry about the screw up, tonight. As far as the table goes, I'll find you another," he said to me. "Now young lady, is there anything else I can do for you, this morning?" "I was wondering. Do you have any idea where my dad is? I haven't heard from him since my mom and him split up. She says she doesn't have a clue where he is," she said, sounding depressed. "She doesn't? Huh," he replied, rubbing his chin. "I'll put out some feelers, and see what I can find out." "Thanks for even trying," said Donna, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "No problem. My pleasure," he said. Then he turned to me. "Try not to be such a douche bag," he said and left. I was tired; but before I headed to the bedroom, I looked at the tree. "It really turned out nice." "I knew it would," Donna said, stifling a yawn. "I'm going to bed." Attic Treasures and Tales. "Junior!" Pop shouted, breaking Ralphie's concentration. "Did you find the box of ornaments?" "Yeah Pop, here." he said handing the box down the ladder. "Your Mother will be relieved that you found it. What are you doing up here?" Ralph Senior asked. "You told me to go through all the boxes before we donate them. I found some of my old grade school stuff, and was looking it over, that's all." "Are these the boxes that are going to the Goodwill?" he asked, looking up through the hatchway. "Yeah, here you go," Junior said, passing them along to his dad. Settling back under the light, he continued to ...
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  • Offers I Couldn't Refuse: Part 1

    Offers I Couldn't Refuse: Part 1
    Jan 9 2026
    Offers I Couldn't Refuse: Part 1. Ditzy Donna and Ralphie's first Christmas. Based on a post by Kirk 48 2002, in 2 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connected. "I really did used to like the holidays," grumbled Ralphie Persons Junior; as he rubbed the same spot on his head that he'd whacked several times in a row on the same slanted ceiling beam. It was the first weekend in December, and he was crawling around the attic, looking for boxes of holiday decorations, that his mother wanted hauled downstairs and put up, the day after Thanksgiving. Having just started his first term at community college, Ralphie Jr. managed to dodge that bullet by complaining that he had a couple of papers due in English Composition and Early American History. The papers being due the Monday after Thanksgiving was true, but he'd left out the part that they were already finished. With a mighty grunt, he shoved a box of Easter lawn decorations aside and hit his head again. That time he saw stars. "If she wants them down so bad, why doesn't she do it?" he grumbled louder to himself. "Because she's more than twice your age, she doesn't like to hit her head, and she's got you to do it," said Ralph Sr., looking like a disembodied head sticking up, out of the floor of the attic. "Now, if you're done complaining, I'm sure you've got some boxes to come down; so pass them to me and I'll take them down the ladder for you." That suited Ralphie just fine, because trying to balance the boxes as he slid out the access hole, and then find his footing on the ladder; was no easy chore. He pushed what he already had found, toward the opening and looked for more. After hitting his head once more, he was convinced he'd found them all. "I think that's it, Pop." "You're missing the box with the tree ornaments," came his mom's voice through the access way. Ralphie took a deep breath and counted to ten. "Alright mom, I'll keep looking," Jr. said, sounding a bit miffed. Actually sounding a lot miffed. "We're gonna go and start setting up the outside lights and blow up characters," said his Pop through the hatchway. "That'll keep us out of your way a while and let you blow off some steam. I don't want you saying something to your mother the wrong way and have you regret it later." "Okay," sighed Ralphie, nodding his head as his Pop disappeared down the hatch. He took a long look around the attic and didn't see a box marked ornaments, so he decided to straighten and organize the entire loft by opening each box and marking them. He found that some of the boxes had his old clothes that he wore in grade school."Why doesn't she get rid of this stuff?" he thought to himself. Then he chuckled."If she's waiting for grandkids she's got a long wait." He didn't really have a girlfriend but his parents thought he did. For some reason they both kept pushing the idea of him and the girl he took to the prom, Louise Johnson, as being a couple."A couple of dorks," he thought. Actually, he did take Louise AKA 'Looney Louise,' out on a few dates during the summer. She was kind of funny and interesting, but her shenanigans and her perpendicular hair, far outweighed the positives, except for her tits. "Whew," Jr. said, shaking his head at the thought of them. He remembered when she showed them to him, and he started to daydream. Double Feature. They were in the back of the movie theater and she was jamming popcorn in her mouth. He saw that she had as much 'fruit of the Redenbacher' on her shirt as she still had in her trough of popcorn. "I think you better do something," he said, pointing in the general direction of her breasts. She put the bucket under her boobs and pushed the lucky kernels back in causing her breasts to bounce several times. "There, better?" Other than a few genuine imitation butter stains she was all clean. She settled back in her seat and shifted around a bit almost slumping, forcing her breasts up and out. Between the seat in front of her and her tits in her face, Ralphie didn't think she could see the screen. He didn't realize he was staring at her, until her eyes slowly turned toward him. "Imagination running wild?" she whispered, placing her trough of corn on the floor. "I bet you've got a hundred different visions of what they look like, going on in your head. What do you think they look like?" Ralphie sat there with his mouth agape. "Oh come on. Maybe they're perky, droopy, hard, or soft. Maybe they have veins all over them. Maybe my nipples are large like acorns, small like cherry pits, or even big and puffy," she whispered, encouraging him in her game. Ralphie still sat there with his mouth agaip. She sighed. "No idea, huh? Okay," she said, unbuttoning her blouse down to her navel and unclasping the front hook on her bra. She snapped them open and said, "Behold!" Attic of Family Artifacts. He was startled out of his obcessions by his father's strong voice."Junior, did you find them yet?" his Pops voice said from the hole. "No, I decided to ...
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  • Andrew’s Delightful Attributes

    Andrew’s Delightful Attributes
    Jan 8 2026
    Andrew’s Delightful Attributes. The women in Andrew’s life, are getting frisky. Based on a post by Meow 5 meow. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Mom catches Andrew Solo. Eliza woke up to her Saturday morning and rolled over to look at her clock, it said 9am, which was an hour before she usually rose. She knew Andrew would already be up because he was an early riser; like his father had been. So she pulled a robe around herself and headed downstairs quietly. When she entered the kitchen there was no one there, she checked around the house but didn't see him. Still sleepy she let the mystery and worry go and made herself some coffee and a bagel. She finished her breakfast quickly because felt a little uncomfortable with the dead silence in the house. She wondered where her son went. He tended to be pretty active in the mornings but didn't usually leave the house till he saw her. Some mornings Andrew would work out in the garage, but that was not where he was this early morning. She didn't see a note around anywhere, so she went back upstairs, to check her phone. Maybe he texted her before he left the house? Eliza didn't feel any urgency yet, just mild curiosity as she went back up the stairs. On this pass through, she purposely looked at Andrew's bedroom door for signs of life. It was half open, quiet and dark inside. Suddenly Eliza believed her son must still be in bed, and she stepped over and gently pushed his door further, opening the room up to her view. Suddenly she could see Andrew sitting at his desk, against the far wall, with headphones on. "Oh." Eliza uttered quietly, feeling silly for her worry. Of course he was in his room. Andrew hadn't noticed her behind him. He was just sitting there, staring at the screen and moving his shoulder. Eliza finally looked at the screen to find an up close view of a naked woman's body, and saw her shaved cunt being fucked by a pale pink cock. She gasped and her eyes locked onto the porn her son was watching. For a least a minute she just stood there watching her son beat off. Minutes went by and she didn't move. “Is my cock bigger than Dad’s?” Andrew asked the Milf in the video. The video zoomed out and she could see the actors going at it. Her mouth dropped open. The actress was tall and blonde, like she was. And curvy with the same hairstyle as Eliza. The actor fucking her was young and superficially like Andrew too. It was obvious Andrew had picked this video as a fantasy for him and her together. Eliza closed her mouth, blinking in the quiet that was only broken by the soft fleshy fapping sounds of her son's hand on his cock and his ragged breathing. At the same moment her own nipples tightened and her clit pulsed and began to inflame her sex. She was responding to the idea that her son was fantasizing about having sex with her. Her hand slid up the door jam and she tried to control her breathing and slow down her strong physical reaction. Her son was just stepping up his, though; arm jerking faster and tiny whimpers spilled out of his lips. She felt scared, not willing to take one step farther in his room. Shame rearing up to scream at her, for watching and responding; and feeling any sort of urge when it came to Andrew. She gripped the door knob and backed up a step, fully intending to flee this very moment. As her shoulders turned away from his room, she heard her son utter words that slammed into her like a freight train. "Yeah mom... you love my cock too.. Don't you?" Eliza swiftly retreated from that spot and went into her private bathroom and locked the door. Her heart was racing and panic leaking into her brain Eliza slumped down on her shaggy toilet seat cover and spread her legs. With fingers over her panties she explored her sex and shivered at her sensitivity, with a broken little sob she snaked her fingers under the waistband of her panties and glided over her drenched clit. It frightened her how quickly and feverishly she had responded to what she had seen. It was so utterly wrong. As she teased her clit, her brain tried to rationalize it. Masturbation is a natural thing, she told herself. And it's Andrew's private business. Plus, mother-son fantasies are just a phase that young men grow out of quickly. Her own sensual reaction is just a sensitivity caused by not having had sex in a while, and her libido is just easily triggered. All normal and no way shameful; unless acted upon. It would never be acted upon. Eliza took a hot shower, and imagined her son fucking her in missionary position, looking him right in the face, as his cock pumped firmly in and out of her. Of kissing him; he was so handsome! It set her right over the edge and she moaned loudly, helpless to the overwhelming sensation of a strong orgasm. Her bare feet pressed against the tile floor of the double shower, and her hips rocked as she prolonged her pleasure. After a few minutes to breath dried off again and intended to get dressed. When she walked ...
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