This story is a homage to James Thurber's classic, "The Secret Life of Walter Mitty", which daydreams are interleaved with real-life scenes, but all tied together. * ...It had come at last. The night of nights. Mitt's princess stood before him, her long blonde tresses curling down her back, her green eyes alert, yet respectful. The white wedding dress brou...
My name is Annabelle Peggy Simpson, but you may call me Sister Peg. Everybody still does. Even though I'm not a Nun anymore. I was born and raised in the City of Trenton, State of New Jersey. With my Teutonic good looks ( I stand six feet two inches tall, with blonde hair and pale blue eyes ) I could have been a model or an actress but I went in another dire...
Author's Note: This story takes place between the CATU novels Ghosts and Russian Winter. The train has only been away from the station for forty minutes when the terrorists strike. Melissa Dupree sits three cars away from where the terrorists begin their attack, but being a CATU agent, she sees the signs well in advance. Alone, she can't do much for the pe...
[This is a work of fiction. The sroty can fit several different categories, but the main two are voyeurism and erotic couplings. It is an unadulterated and unabashed attempt to tickle male fantasies, and as such, may or may not be, completely realistic. All events, locations, and people are fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is...
What does a lesbian look like? In most people's minds, when they envision a lesbian, they think of a short-haired, masculine white chick in a flannel shirt. The prototypical butch lesbian citizen of Western society. Well, I am a lesbian and I definitely don't look like that. My name is Fatouma Aden, and I'm a young Somali Muslim woman living in the City of O...
This is why I'm hot. I'm the six-foot-tall, brown-skinned and dark-eyed Afro-Persian beauty you can't take your eyes off as I stride through the Boston University campus. Clad in my long blue winter jacket over dark blue jeans, my hair covered by a fashionable White hijab, I look hotter than most of the bare-headed Infidel chicks you see walking around downt...
As Salam Alaikum, dear readers. Happy new year 2015! Got something that I, as a Muslim woman feel the need to share with you. I wear the Hijab because I want to, not because anyone forces me to do it. My name is Laila Al-Ahmar and I'm a young Yemeni-Canadian woman living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. I am a good Muslim, a proud Canadian citizen and a devot...
First the last few lines of part 1: After dinner Nusrat went to the toilet. I followed her. 'Tune faisla kar liya hai ki tu Sahebji se apni bur phardwayegi (So you have decided that Sahebji will deflower you),' I said. 'Yes, but there is a problem,' she said. 'What?' I asked. 'I have read in his stories that he likes shaven choots (cunts) but my choo...
Raindrops keep falling on my head as I stride through the busy, crowded streets of Boston, Massachusetts. It's a late Monday afternoon in early September and feels more like spring than fall, mainly because of the hot rains we still get from time to time. It's times like these that I miss home the most. I am a daughter of the desert. It's who I am. I don't b...
"Taslim Abu Jaan," Zubeda greeted her father- in- law when he walked into the kitchen. She had been married only a month now, but already she had fallen into the pattern of life here at her husband's house. Abu Jaan and Ammi treated her like their own daughter. It was very rarely that Zubeda missed her own parents in sorrow. Zubeda's in-laws felt lucky to...