Helena Smith-Barrington is a sixty-year-old woman originally from the City of Birmingham, Alabama, who moved to the City of Ottawa, Ontario, during the real estate craze affecting the Capital of Canada. Far from her southern comfort zone, Helena had to adapt to a brand new environment. Fed up with the direction the economy in Alabama was going in, Helena dec...
Chapter 7 -- The Pine Tree The morning after their date with Elaine and Joe neither Patrick or Marie wanted to get out of bed. Patrick snuggled up behind Marie and began to slowly caress her breast with his thumb beginning at the bottom curve and traveling to the outside of her breast before moving to circle her nipple until it stood straight out begging to...
SOFT MOANS AND GENTLE WHISPERS and the squeaking of the bedsprings are sounds I've always associated with sex, but dialogue of an erotic nature had never entered my mind. Little did I know how powerful sexy words could be. The right phrase from a virtuoso dirty-talking woman can have me hard in seconds, ready to climb the walls in unspeakable excitement. T...
As Tish and Boyd headed home after the annual retreat, refreshed in their love for each other, she reflected on the wonderful and spectacular sabbatical, designed to renew their love. It had begun on the second Friday evening in October, as tradition dictated. They'd traveled eighty miles north to the rural antebellum mansion, now transformed into a sumptuo...
I am trying something different with these stories. Instead of writing a single narrative, I have written 10 vignettes from a relationship. Each chapter alternates between the point of view of the two main characters and is written as if talking to the other person. In addition, I have written each chapter as a quickie; all of the stories are 1,000 words o...
"Tell me a secret," Sara said. She was tits up, naked on the bed. They had just fucked and Travis was walking back into the bedroom with a bottle of water. "What?" "Tell me a secret," she insisted. They had barely known each other for a month and now she wanted a secret from him. "I shoplifted science fiction novels from the bookstore when I was a teena...
"The straps are too tight, Ma'am!" "No, they are not. Just relax and enjoy." "No...please...really! I can't feel my hands!" "Dearest! You are not paying attention to me. Now quit complaining." "Please..." moaning and beginning to cry. "Please...my feet...what's wrong with my feet?" "Nothing." Sobbing now. Then screaming. Then nothing. As blood dripped...
My name is Joe Strides. I'm a stocky, dark-skinned young Black man living in the City of Champions, Massachusetts. I work at the Champion City Community Library. And I'm the laziest bastard you'll ever meet. A fine example of the stereotypically unmotivated African-American guy. Even though being born in the United States of America grants me advantages that...
Carrie tapped her foot impatiently, glancing down at her watch. Class was almost over, and she was looking forward to getting home. History was not her favorite subject. Professor Armstrong surveyed his classroom as he wrapped up his lecture about Antebellum abolitionists. He noticed Carrie in the third row paying attention to anything but him, and remember...
Thank you ZB for editing this story. * Kaitlyn awoke, startled from her dreams by the banging on the door. "Wake up Kaitlyn," Alexis yelled, "Rebecca will be here at 8:00 to drive us to the airport. You have to get up." "I'm up, I'm up," Kaitlyn mumbled as she climbed from bed and headed to the shower. Alexis walked back to her room listening for the w...