I hate my hometown. Some people say they are from a one horse town? Mine is a half ass village. I mean, technically it's a city, with a population of over 13 thousand. However, it's one of those cities where everyone knows everyone, is possibly related, and once a rumour starts you will never live it down. And here I am, back after 10 years away. Kids tod...
Donna's toes felt so good, but she was right. I needed to slow down. It was shaping up to be like our discussions when we she was in the woman superior position. Only this time she was on her back and I was the one theoretically in charge my climax. The conversation would last only as long as I could. Donna began, "After our dinner where he told me about i...
After I came down from my orgasmic haze, I was consumed with remorse. Shame filled me. Mrs. Reynolds hung around and held me and praised my slutty nature. She told me how proud of me she was. I had to admit, it helped. It didn't take it away, but it helped me continue. Mrs. Reynolds told me I needed to rest. I needed to clean myself up. She gave me specifi...
I squinted in the mild illumination of Lex's bedroom, unsuccessfully trying to make out the features of the painting on the wall in front of me. It was darker in here than it had been before, but the darkness was a blessing. My head was pounding, I was terribly thirsty, and nearly every part of my body ached. I felt as though someone had run me through a ble...
Dear readers...first off, sorry for the corny tagline. Second off, thank you so much for reading this and *hint hint* voting and *even louder hint hint* commenting. You guys rock! Chapter 4 is coming soon, cross my heart, but maybe not as quickly as this one did, because I'll be going through some intense changes over the next few weeks. But never fear. Yo...
Chapter 3—Laileet My work ebbed and flowed over the next three visits. On one trip I saw three women, one of whom was undergoing her third betrothal. While not all women employed Florists for each successive betrothal a few did, especially if they wanted to perfect new techniques. On this particular trip to Tsibili, however, I was expecting to see only o...
We had been in the night club a while before I noticed that Brenda had gone missing. I had been quite happy enjoying a dance or two and chatting away to two younger men, who bought me drinks and who shocked me a little by the way they behaved, not rowdily but presuming it okay to run their hands over my body and sneak the odd grope or kiss. I told myself tha...
A distant place, elevated. A remote, craggy area of the Lesotho highlands. Summer is drawing to an end, and the first chill winds of early autumn are beginning to be felt. It is late evening. From the green, impossibly wild peaks, which appear as if titans have ploughed furrows into them, it seems as though an artist with otherworldly power has slashed grea...
(This is the fourth and final story in this series. The others, in order, are Rainy Day Rubdown, RDR:Gina's Story and RDR:Cindy's Story. I didn't plan for all this, the characters simply kept clamoring they had more to say. In brief: Gina, a 40's married woman, and Cindy, a 19 year old college student, had a one night stand that has become a passionate affai...
All the characters are over the age of eighteen. * "Oh hi Hanna," Alison DiLaurentis had a smile like a serial killer, charming to those who didn't recognise it, evil to those who did. She stood in front doorway of the Marin house, obviously expecting to be let in. Not that Hanna was minded to, she couldn't believe that she used to be friends with the litt...