Annabelle entered the small shop on Dauphine, east side of the French Quarter. A remote jingle announced her presence. An attractive clerk fussing behind the jewelry counter looked up. Smiled. Sparsely staged collections of couture dresses flanked the quietly hued space. Each designer's latest propped and lit like sculpture. Another patron, a tall, too skinn...
On the last week of March, 2004, while vacationing in Paris, I had by chance spent most of a rainy afternoon in my late aunt's attic. I was there to help in settling her estate and while perusing a series of bound letters found in a musty trunk, I came across . . . well read on and see for yourself. P. Fogg ~ A Memoir ~ As I read this document I came to...
Annabelle slammed the hotel door, dropped her suitcase, briefcase and handbag on the bed, and collapsed down beside them. She was shattered. The journey from London to Chicago had been exhausting; she had caught the red eye last night which had had to put down at JFK for four hours with engine trouble, and then, when she got to O'Hare Airport, her credit car...
Warning this story was written in England by an Englishman. It utilises English vocabulary, spelling and grammatical conventions; some readers find these disturbing. * Annabelle, a woman almost twice my age, had finally managed to seduce me at a dinner party. Once circumstances permitted us to slip away to her home, she had revealed just how unbridled her...
Dave lay in bed watching Helen move around the houseboat in the nude. His prick stirred as he watched and remembered how hot she had been last night, their first night together. He toyed with his prick as he studied her fit muscular legs and the round cheeks of her arse. As Matron of the Maternal and Child Welfare Clinic she was constantly on her feet givin...
Annabelle was the proud owner of The Double Deuce horse ranch. She inherited it from her father a year ago after he passed away. He taught her everything he knew about ranching before he passed on. Annabelle had been running the ranch since and doing a fine job of it. Everyone in town thought so. Now if she could just find the right man to share it with. She...
Annabelle thought he looked like a wolf when she first saw him. He was standing at the front of the small classroom with a book of poetry in his hand, cover bent at an atrocious angle in his grip. He was all sharp eyes and bearded jaw, the salt-and-pepper color of his thick hair the only real aging factor in his appearance. His teeth were very white, and th...
Ron was impressed at how quickly Helena, or Marie, had recovered her poise. She'd looked very flushed when she saw him and hadn't been able to make eye contact. She seemed to get it back together quickly; Ron didn't think the doctor had noticed anything. Ron felt uncomfortable. He found it difficult to judge what to say with Helena there. He couldn't shake...
As Annabelle's first term at University drew to a close, I had become her slave: cleaning floors, laundry, ironing, cleaning her shoes, making her bed, sorting her clothes and other household chores. Each day was filled nonstop with toil, from early morning to late night, stopping only when she had gone to bed to sleep, and even then I would have to be alert...
Diane, Charlotte and Sarah arrived at the institute a few minutes before 4 PM, where they were ushered into the meeting room. There were 6 chairs arranged in a circle, and two ladies already occupied two seats. A paper stuck to the board in the middle of the room said, “Share your answers on the survey with each other!” To her surprise, Sarah recognized one...