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Memories
by Cain Berlinger
Category: Erotica/Gay-Lesbian Erotica/Science Fiction
Description: Milo just wants to sleep. The experimental process he undergoes takes him deep him deep into his erotic memories, and sends his life spiraling out of control.
eBook Publisher: loveyoudivine/loveyoudivine Alterotica, 2010
eBookwise Release Date: January 2011

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Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [30 KB]
Words: 5946 Reading time: 16-23 min.

If my friends could see me now, alone, naked, and curled up inside a padded cubicle with white walls, white ceilings and white floors. Oh, yes, did I mention that it's all padded? Sorry, but I didn't want to scare you away. I'm in here for my own good, you know. Don't misunderstand me. It's my decision, not some paper-pusher in a white coat, but my own decision; of course, they did agree with me.
It's the year 2005 and I can't remember the exact day my descent into madness started. But, oh, yes, I remember the year. It's seven years since the cure to the plague was found. Man, do I remember the parties then. It was like the seventies all over again, but more intense. We now had a reason to party all night and all day and throughout the week.
Hell, I was already well into my forties, but I couldn't resist joining in the celebration. Long after the youngsters went to bed, my posse continued to party. Who had better reason? After all, we had seen the golden years and lost all our loved ones to the plague, but we had survived. Shell-shocked and worn, we had survived and if we gave ourselves strokes and threw our backs out in the jubilation, so be it.
A month or so following the yearlong celebration, my body began to rebel. The muscles tightened, the joints creaked, and my body screamed for mental and physical nourishment.
I sat despondent at my kitchen table thumbing through the classifieds in the gay newspaper while my most current trick showered alone. I was weary of the whole thing. I had survived the plague, the nineties, ushered in the new century, and had plunged headfirst into my old, but not forgotten behavior. Suddenly, I felt ancient and very tired.
"Hey! Which towel do I use?" The trick called out across the small apartment filled with useless bric-a-brac.
"I don't care, just take any towel!" Then please, please get out.
Within moments, a very handsome man in his forties walked naked into my kitchen. He looked great with his muscular and hairless wet body. His gray beard sparkled with drops of water as he vigorously toweled his hair. Seeing him again made my nipples sore. I reminded myself how raw my ass felt after the brutal work-over I had received the night before.
The head of my cock still hurt from where he had sucked me relentlessly through the night. He was the type of man I had lusted after most of my adult life and now I wanted him gone. I wanted to be alone.
"Man, you were terrific."
His smile was infectious. As he leaned over to kiss me, his cock brushed against my chest and I wanted him again, but not now, not today. I fixed him some juice and toast and promised him to call if I could.
As a trained massage therapist I watched my profession go from the adult section to serious service section. America had at least made that one leap into faith. Relaxation clinics, seminars, weekend get-aways, an all-inclusive package of which Massage played a part. Yeah man, did that sound attractive.
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