'Louis leaned in and kissed Mark hard on the lips, running his hands over the rough cotton leggings that covered the thighs he wished to be between. It had been days since he'd rescued Mark from the tremulous seas, and this was the first time that his ward had been conscious and awake. The lips parted slightly and felt warm to the touch of his own heated lip...
People often ask me where I get my ideas from. I'm a romance novelist. Yep, I write those cheap and tawdry little paperbacks that fly off the shelves at the supermarket or the book store for $7.95 a pop; my books fill the afternoons -- and the shopping carts -- of America's housewives, fueling afternoon fantasies that their husbands can never fulfill. Oops....
(For a variation story on the first two paragraphs and the topic of a suicide attempt, see the sr71plt story "Helpful Hiker.") * I will always remember the barn. How could I ever forget it? It was a big, corrugated iron one, dull with age and with no windows on the lower level and just one at each end, up in the gable. Tall narrow windows that let light i...
The song "Kisses Sweeter than Wine" sprang to my mind, because that was what his kisses were. As far as I could tell in the dimly lit Blue Moon resort hotel room in Las Vegas, he was a young hunk, no older than I was. Most of the men in the room were older, a few probably twice or more my age. None were complete throwaways, but he was prime among them. And h...
Brady came home that afternoon to find Ezra sitting at the dining room table with two envelopes in front of him. One was from Sam Houston State University and the other was from Baylor. Brady could only guess they were the letters Ezra had been waiting for nearly the day after he sent out his applications and from the size of the envelopes it looked like Ezr...
To new readers: Sorry, this chapter isn't going to make very much sense if you haven't yet read the rest of Backstage Romance. To all the readers of Backstage Romance who voted, commented, and sent me e-mails letting me know how much they've enjoyed this story: Thank you so very, very much. I'm truly sorry it's taken me so long to get back to them. The las...
Millstone - ONE - (Hanging the Chimney Hook) CHAPTER SEVEN The elevator doors opened into the changing area of the locker room. Albert had a hard time tearing his eyes away from my cock. "As a club, many of the guys go by a nickname, and I'm thinking you should go by Horse." "Wow! You mean someone hasn't already snagged that overly used cliché?" "It's...
That Saturday evening in late November on the occasion of my 25th high school reunion I expected to have a good time chatting with old friends, many of whom I had not seen in 25 years. Lynn Millan, a petite blond who had been my first ever date, had contacted me with a beautifully written invitation. It did not surprise me that the girl who had served two ye...
Alright, kiddo. Calm down. I see that look in your eyes. You’re thinking, What the fuck? Is that a fucking fairy? But before you go running downstairs to your mommy, let me explain. First off: Happy birthday, kiddo. Eighteen years old? God damn. I heard high school is a bitch. Especially if you’re a fairy. A human fairy, I mean. But now I’m getting ahead of...
It was Sunday afternoon. Three days, and I had nothing. Nothing. Nada. Nil. Zero. Zilch. White screen on Word. Asterisks rained on my page while childhood melodies flooded my head: Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing-- nothing, nothing all day long. Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing, how do you like my nothing song? I managed to type my thoughts, my desi...