Your erotic stories

The old fisherman sat out at the end of the dilapidated dock in his lopsided deck chair. Though it was getting on toward evening the sun was nice and warm. He was fishing really light; a homemade bamboo pole and an old reel he maybe got before he had whiskers. Duck-taped it to the pole and wound it with ten pound test. Fishing flounder didn't take much gear. He had a card of hooks, a tin with some weights and floats and some leader. Minnows in an old milk bottle and a plastic paint bucket for his catch. He had caught some.

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I had taken a small, private room at a hostel for the night from a disarmingly sexy young Asian babe at the front desk. During the night I was awakened by the sound of someone unlocking my door. I carefully picked up the ashtray beside my bed so I would be ready and able to fucking murder the intruder with it if needs be.

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