Your erotic stories

As a psychology major, it never ceases to surprise me how deep human loathing can go. Often times the most screwed up ones are ourselves. For every ten people that you meet, eight hate everyone, six hate themselves, but blame everyone else, three loathe themselves with depths unfathomable, and one or two out of those ten will never let you know just how disturbed they really are.

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I was meeting close friends John and Ryan at the club. They were bringing Mark, a friend of John's from university who'd recently moved to the city. That might sound like they were trying to hook us up but I'd never needed their help. They knew I'd end the evening with him anyway, as long as he was reasonably good-looking. He was better, but much too controlled for my tastes. The green-hazel eyes were calm and probing, all at the same time, the mouth with its thin upper lip and full lower lip didn't get a lot of exercise as if he thought through every thing before he spoke, not a single blond strand out of place.

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From the first second I saw him I knew I wanted him. He had a phone pressed between his shoulder and his ear, eating from a bowl of cereal as he walked around the pool in his backyard. The baggie board-shorts he wore would dip a little with each step revealing the paler skin of his ass and top of his crack. I kept half an eye on him from the concealment of my sunglasses while I worked.

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It was my freshman year in college. While I had a scholarship that paid most of my school expenses, if I wanted to have a social life or even a Big Mac, I had to get a job. As in any other college town, good jobs are hard to come by, so I took what I could get. In this case, I worked with the maintenance department at the local mall.

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When I got to college, I was the only freshman in the senior dorm. I had planned to go to another school but at the last minute I changed my mind. Richards Institute where I had originally planned to go had a wonderful fine arts program, which was my field; but I had been accepted at Rodgers University, and when push came to shove I just couldn't give up the opportunity to go to one of the Big League schools. So by the time I decided to go to Rodgers and applied for a room, the freshman dorms were all filled.

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One often wonders if their life really has any meaning at all, or if it is just some big cosmic joke where supernatural beings are laughing and pointing at our misfortune, all the while eating a large bucket of overly buttered popcorn and drinking something unnaturally sweet. This thought has often plagued me. Especially when circumstances would lead me to tell the guy I really liked that I liked him after I had hidden it so well, while precautious perched on a tree limb. Yep. I'm fairly positive my very existence is merely for someone else's amusement.

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All characters are over 18 years old. * Tom was like a father to me, and being more than twice my age that was understandable. He was always there when I needed help or guidance. Never overbearing, but always available when I needed him most. He gave me advice when I asked for it and an ear when I needed to vent or just talk.

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I've heard some people say that in college you learn stuff about yourself you never even considered. In my case that's very true. When I arrived at my dorm room on my first day of college and met my new roommate; Sam, I felt I knew myself pretty well. The geeky guy with glasses who would probably never get further than second base with any girl, and desperately trying to get a spot of popularity by being clown of the class.

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My name is Brad and I'm huge. I'm talking 6'4 and 245lbs of muscle. To top it off, I'm a bear and I'm only 20. Imagine a bull in the china shop, that's me. I fucking hate it. I've always heard that we want what we can't have. That is so true. I wish that I was small and delicate but I'm not. I'm a big hairy oaf.

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As a college freshman at a state school in the Rocky Mountains, I was a pretty conservative guy, especially considering all the boozing, drugs, and wild sex that was running rampant in my coed dorm. My high school years were very low key; I had dated the same girl since sophomore year, swam competitively, and studied hard. At university, I was in way over my head as a mechanical engineering major and the freshman weed-out courses were giving me hell. I drank a little on the weekends, but most of my free time was spent studying.

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