There's a local magazine store that I frequent every Sunday morning to pick up a New York Times. It's a large, double room store that's run by a Mid-Eastern family, a father and three adult sons. I'm not sure where they are originally from but they all are typically Arab in appearance, slim with olive skin and black hair, two of them tall and the youngest sm...
~*~*~*~*~*~*~A Mole Goes Down~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Prince Mohammed Abdullah Farouk Hussein Ali was the eldest son and direct decent of the Mohammed Ali Pasha Dynasty that ruled over Egypt from 1808 until 1848. Throughout the generations Abdullah's family retained its monarchal titles, and at his birth his father held him high in the air and prayed to Allah that thi...
I will remember this moment forever. With a ten hour marathon of driving behind me, I looked at the stony hill beyond the road, the dried out lake bed on the near side, and the bright Nevada desert sun above it. A group of youngins sat in the sliver of the midday shade of an RV. One had green hair. One had cowboy pants and a bare bronze chest. A girly one ha...
The harbor at Algiers seemed almost to disappear altogether as the pirate ships moved into the deep-water port right up to the dock and then, when there was no more room at the docks, right up against the ship between them and the dock—and so on until the whole surface of the space between the two headlands encasing the harbor was just one continuous deck wi...
It had only been a fleeting moment; perhaps a minute of pure joy when all doubts about my bisexuality had been sucked out of me. It had been a carefree night, myself, Rob and Dan just fooling around, drinking vodka, laughing, planning all sort of improbable escapades. It was about midnight and Dan asked us if we were hungry. He scampered off to the kitchen...
Looking toward another long, uneventful weekend in this Middle Eastern country, I decided to spend several hours in the desert tranquility. Hiking and catching up on some reading seemed the perfect answer to pass the time of day. Because it was never wise to venture into the desert by oneself, one of the Filipino workers volunteered to accompany me. Pulling...
Thanks everyone for your feedback. It encouraged me to write another chapter. Special thanks to my editor and idea genie, Xelos. *****+*****+*****+*****+***** +{Kasper's Den}+ Part 10 [By Emri] Opening my eyes in Amir's warm, protective hold against his soothing heartbeat is the greatest way to wake up; at least until I realize that I have to pee and I...
This story is dedicated to all the real Super Heroes of our time - The Service men and women of our Armed Forces and First Responders. This story is a work of pure fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or l...
"You're not trying, boy, struggle Lincoln, fight for yourself. You need to learn to defend yourself," He had his lips against my ear, encouraging me and occasionally pulling at my earlobes with his thick, Arab lips. It didn't feel sexual, more like adding humiliation of a man taking another by force. He was playing with me. "Against who, sir? The only one...
Chapter 13 - A Killer Christmas. December 25, 1986 - 0325 I awoke In my burgundy pajamas refreshed, re-energized, and very hungry. I don't know how I got out of my clothes and into pajamas. I had a feeling Naser had something to do with it. There was a Polaroid photo on Tam's dresser mirror frame. I walked to the dresser, the photo it was a picture of m...