Your erotic stories

I am a man haunted. Driven to the depths of despair and raised to the heights of ecstasy by that girl: a slim young creature who bewitched me and made me half crazy as I careened between fierce lust for her and bitter remorse for what I subjected her to. It was not always this way. For most of my life I was the soul of dignity, a true gentleman. My life was a tranquil sea, roiled neither by triumph nor tragedy.

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Cruise Ship Cinema was an older style movie theater that had been converted to a multiplex as best as the architecture of the antiquated building would allow. There were eight theaters and an oversized entry lobby. The projection loft was on a second floor that ran above the lower ceiling hall that separated the theaters into two banks of four.

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It was a beautiful Saturday night, a clear star lit sky with a full moon overlooking what seemed to be an ordinary neighborhood. As I drove through, its normalcy is what stuck me first, everything looked the same.

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The motel was worse than Milene expected, definitely low-rent and in need of repair. Several disreputable-looking characters hung out in the parking lot, checking her out as she drove in. Drug dealers, Milene assumed, or maybe drug users. Or pimp types. This looked like the kind of motel that rented by the hour, as the saying goes. Then again, that's essentially what Milene was there for, so who was she to judge?

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"Ten full minutes. You gotta lay there, on your back, totally nude. Hands behind your head so you can relax." "Relax, right." How Mike and I wound up in this bizarre, slightly hilarious situation was fueled by very cheap beer and overactive 19 year old hormones. Well, Mike was 19, I was 18, and we'd been buddies since sophomore year of high school. Mike was a bit of a paradox. He was a soccer player who wasn't a jock, a metal head who wasn't a burnout, and a good student who wasn't a nerd.

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