Your erotic stories

Francis had friends round watching the football when I got home from university. I wanted them to go away. I didn't know what Francis had told them about me and our relationship but they kept watching me, I could sense them looking at me when I wasn't paying attention to them.

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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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DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the result of my imagination or are used within a fictitious context. Any resemblance to actual people, alive or deceased, places, or incidents is entirely coincidental.

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First I want to say thank you to those people who posted and sent me messages. I know there weren't very many of you, but this only got written because of you. It really is amazing how much your small messages mean. That being said, I'd like to apologize for this entry taking so long and not being as long as it could have been. As usual, any comments on my writing, good or bad, are wonderful to hear so please feel free to comment.

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(Note: There is no immediate sex in this chapter. There will be, in following chapters, but I prefer the story to build up to it. Enjoy!) * Kellin: "David!" I grinned at him as he sat down in the empty chair next to me, looking gloriously perfect in dark jeans and a black hoodie. His jet black hair was perfectly disheveled, and his emerald eyes sparkled. I was greeted by rows of bleach white teeth; his uneven smile made my heart skip.

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Life on The Sea Siren was not an easy one, to be a hard core fisherman on the Bering Sea you had to be tough and willing to work hard. October and January are the best times for fishing for king crab. Joel was the son of the captain of The Sea Siren, he had worked last season as a greenhorn, this season he was working as a full crewmen.

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Rory sat on the edge of the bar, looking towards the entrance and repeatedly checking his cell phone. Every time he did so, his disappointed sighs grew more and more resigned. He had tried calling and sending text messages, without success. Where the hell was Jack? "What's the matter, gorgeous?"

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Dust. All over, on everything. I take in the clutter of furniture in my great-uncle's attic, sighing as I silently wonder what the hell I am going to do with it all. Nearly every inch of space is taken by sheet-covered antiques in all shapes and sizes.

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Comment by the author: I received quite a few requests for this sequel, and meant to have it written ages ago, but mid-writing I went into a bit of a slump. But now I have finally finished it! Sorry for the wait, and hope it's to your liking! "Beware the woods at night... beware the lunar light." ~ from the song "Wolf Moon" by Type O Negative

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I had just gotten home, trying to unwind from a trying day, when the doorbell rang. I opened the door to two men. One was tall, suave and polished. He was dressed to perfection, creased and pressed. Not a hair out of place, not a move that wasn't smooth and efficient. He didn't do a thing for me. He was too perfect, too practiced, and too straight. But the other guy, well, he gave me an immediate temperature rise, plus a rise in other areas.

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