If you think you have a complicated life, you should really walk a mile in my shoes. A lot of people say that. I actually mean it. My name is Ramon Hamilton Costa. I was born in the City of Los Angeles, California. The son of a Spanish immigrant father and African-American mother. My father Ernesto Costa died shortly before my birth, leaving my mother Theres...
**Hey guys, this is my first story here..do leave comments, please** Chapter One Jeremy Blair sighed deeply as he stared into his reflection in front of his bathroom mirror, his almost white blonde hair was disheveled, bluish gray eyes stared back at him, a straight nose and lips he had always thought couldn't quite come to an agreement because the top lip...
I stepped out the shower and felt my warmed feet touch the cold tile floor. The steam had fogged up the mirror, so I had to wipe it away with a towel. There I was. Gwen DiAngelo. My Italian mother gave me my massive chest: heavy and firm, Triple D, and swollen with pride, and an accent that took all my years of college to break. My Russo-Polish father didn't...
The life of a young Black man in North America is seldom easy. However, I'd be lying if I said it wasn't worthwhile. And I owe it all to my special lady. I love my Black goddess. There, I said it. And I don't care if it makes me sound whipped, or weak, or whatever. My name is Steve Jean-Simon and I approve this message. At the time of this story, I was livin...
Chapter One . Authors Note; Please note that this story bears no relation to any place or person and great care has been taken to ensure that any similarity exists. This story is purely fictional in every aspect. Please enjoy it It was in the tiny coastal African state of Rangati ,a small but fairly prosperous territory by African standards, lay a former...
"Men surrender by lifting their hands, women surrender by lifting their knees." - Warlord Voodoo The Congo. A terrain of deep valleys covered in thickets, vines and jungle brush which services the meanderings of the indigenous wild life. Great forest trees and miles of jungle greenery are home to a myriad of wild life, some benign, some treacherous. On thi...
My first effort. Although clearly me remembering something, I chose to write in the present tense. Goddess Worship It is evening. The bonfire is just lit. My cape flutters slowly in the gentle breeze. I am completely naked beneath it. Indeed it is the only clothing allowable at this Gathering. It has a fastener at the top and that is it. It is meant to be...
Author's Note: This Story is a spinoff of the series "Marcus Bleak and the Sex Robots". Even though a few characters in this tale appear in the series, it can be regarded as a stand alone story. * Amsterdam International Teleport,Amsterdam Tuesday, 06 September, 2050 10:38 There was a low rumble as the building shook from the tremendous power surge tha...
Hello, there. My name is Steve Vincent. A big and tall young Black man of Haitian descent living in the city of Brockton, Massachusetts. A college graduate, hardworking professional and homeowner who finds himself dissatisfied with his world. Sometimes, I wonder why Black people in America, especially the South, can't seem to make any progress. I knew the an...
In the 1970s I was a medical student at the University of Washington in Seattle, my hometown. Med school was a good time in my life. It was early in the woman's movement and there only were a few other female students in my classes. We were a bit exotic, at least I like to think so. I enjoyed learning. I looked forward to practicing medicine. I associated...