Stefan almost had me that warm afternoon in the summer pavilion of the Eisler country house in the Vienna Woods. We had played two sets of tennis, stripped down to our shorts in the unusual August heat on the mountainside above Vienna, and I knew by the way he looked at me that he wanted me. And, truth be told, I think I wanted him as well. I'd always had th...
The streets of Vancouver were wet as usual and I huddled under the shop overhangs picking my way from one awning to the next and squeezing myself to the brick buildings to avoid the wind. I hated this time of year. Endless rain and I didn't get to see the sun for three months! I had just finished work and was making my way to the local coffee shop for some w...
"My god Ben, this past week - traveling through Germany, here in Nice, and the local sights of Texas! I leaned in a little, "Okay, a highlight has been having you to myself when we were at your place. Now the Côte d'Azure awaits us, right? I think it's going to be one of the best weeks of my, our lives!" We'd spent two full days and three nights in Nice, o...
It happened one night, while I was on holiday with friends -- two weeks surfing on the Côte Sauvage. The beach was Plage Valentin -- a wide strip of soft sand backed by a promenade, and behind that a huge forest of pine and oak. We'd surf most of the day, but in the heat of the afternoon we'd escape into this forest, drink cheap red wine, and fall asleep unt...
"Charlotte wants to do Florence and Venice and take a cruise in the Adriatic." "Sounds good. I'll take the butter please." "She doesn't want to go alone, but Andy has no interest in art at all." "No, he doesn't. That's for sure." "You'd probably be bored stiff too." "Yep, I would. Dinner's good—as always." "Thanks. They were just putting the kale out a...
I met him at a cocktail party in Baton Rouge. The celebrated southern author of those heavily nuanced gothic novels of lust, decadence, old family decay, and the hint of the occult and vampires. I'd never been able to finish one of his novels; they were much too dense and overrich in description for me. But Philippe Controu himself I found to be a surprise....
On my trip through Europe during the Summer of 1985 after my Sophomore year at university, I took an overnight train and had the cabin to myself until, thankfully, a tall, extraordinarily handsome, short-haired redhead with bright green eyes, dark eye lashes and brows, a cleft chin, high cheekbones, perfect nose and lips who looked like a short-haired, redhe...
Monique had been incredibly easy. She had a sophistication that couldn't be counted on from nearly anyone but the French, and she was of an age and financial status that made it seem like she was the one taking advantage. She was easily in her late forties, but she had been very nicely pampered; she'd kept her looks and figure and had the appetites that help...
Dear devoted and extremely valued readers, This story does have erotica, though admittedly not as much as was probably wished for in this specific chapter. This chapter is primarily for background on the characters, and all things erotic will hopefully transcend in chapter three, which is currently underway. I do apologize for any confusion or distaste I ma...
It was when I entered the next room of the art gallery that I saw him. His hair was only slightly sandy, retaining much of the blonde that he had when he was younger. It was still tied up at the back of his head, a sign of most older men that they were trying, but failing, to retain their youth. On him, it didn't matter. He may have been a pound or two heavi...