Even without the interpretations of Messrs. Bellingwood and Phillips, I would have quickly discerned that Fred Stimson was a closeted homosexual when he arrived at college. Within the first ten pages he had described his earliest sexual fantasies and experiences. All involved males. After twenty pages it was clear that he had never had anything resembling se...
Chapter 12 - The Long Road Begins December 19th - Rehab after major trauma is a bitch and I was am not looking forward to going through it again. As if losing 3/4 of one lung wasn't bad enough, it was compounded with nerve damage to the right arm as well as muscle and ligament damage. I awoke this Friday morning to Tam gently stroking my forehead and the...
Chapter One: Flying to Sydney "Forever is a really long time." The phrase kept running through Allen's mind as, face turned toward the window of the crowded jumbo jet high above the Pacific, he feigned an attitude of sleep. He had tired of the chatter of the businessman in the middle seat several thousand miles ago. It had been a mistake to tell the man he...
Brad Besson caught on that he was the only one speaking. All other conversation in the high-flown witty debate on politics and economics had burbled down to nothing but what he was saying. They were gathered poolside on the terrace behind Frederick Gates's residence in the housing compound of the Baker Institute on the banks of the Chesapeake Bay, just to th...
Revised version copyright 2006 by the author. It's five-thirty on Wednesday afternoon. The corridors of the main classroom building are deserted. Let's face it, this is no Harvard, it's a small state school. Around here students never hang around after hours if they can help it. I've taught at this place longer than I care to remember and I'm way past grip...
NOTE -- I've written several stories and have received many generous comments; also many kind letters. I want to thank each of my loyal readers and welcome newcomers. My only reason for writing stories is to bring enjoyment to the reader. It gives me great pleasure to think of you masturbating to them. * My maternal grandfather died at the ripe old age of...
A little less than six months after our wedding, I awoke to the sound of vomiting. Part of me actually hoped it was Kat. But no, she was asleep in her own bed, in the room across the hall. I got out of bed, wearing only sweatpants, and threw open the blinds to let in natural light. In my room, my bed, my patient was violently ill. Val had vomited in bed and...
The finale to Chet's story, written from his point of view. Looks like we finally have some insight on his thoughts. P.s. This story is merely fiction. Practice safe sex. ;) Have fun reading. ***** February 14, 2008 "Hey, Chet baby. I have something for you." Asato leaned down to kiss me on the lips, which was rebuffed by a quick turn of my head. He shot...
Paulie called me from his bedroom. I had been laying in bed reading the novel Team of Ghostmen, and was a little upset that my reading was interrupted. I was about twenty pages before the end of the book, and had wanted to finish reading before it got too late. Paulie's bedroom door was cracked open—and although he had called me from across the house, I knoc...
Shortly before the hour of three struck, Will came into the bedroom where my uncle and I were discussing fabrics for my new wardrobe. "Our guest has arrived. I've placed him in the parlor so that the two of you may interview him." "But surely you will attend, Will." I said. "I need your help. I've never interviewed a prospective employee before and I barel...