Part Sixteen: Confession Once again, Jeremy was less than enthused about getting together with Natasha and Scott. "You know Miss Natasha is going to want me to undress when we're there." He said. Meryn frowned. "You're probably right. And you know I don't like that. Still," she mused, "we will be her guests, and it is her place." "House rules?" He asked....
"Wow, it has been a long time," Nick stated as he slyly looked Sandra up and down. She smiled and sarcastically reminded him that since it was their ten year high school reunion so it had in fact been ten years since they had seen each other (although she was never really sure why they had lost touch) they had been such good friends for so many years. "Y...
**This is fiction** * * * * * I had always liked Fr. Anthony. He was a very kind man, who after learning of my life story (which was somewhat sad) became one of my good friends. I, however...being the addictive personality I am, soon began fantasizing about what it would be like to actually DO something with this man who was for all purposes to me...off...
Your friend request has been accepted by Rhonda Baker-Warren. IM message incoming from Rhonda Rhonda: I'm so glad you sent me that request. I was hoping you would get back in touch. I kept looking for you but do you know how many Jeannie Walkers there are on Facebook? I've missed you girlfriend! What's up on your end of the country? Are you still writing?...
Father Michael Madigan is an old friend. We grew up together, went to high school together. I went to work selling used cars. He went to divinity school. We were young studs, and fucked anything that walked or crawled. Father Madigan (we call him Mike) decided to become celibate. It must have tough for him because he was the biggest whoremonger I ever met. H...
If one was to look up the word "suburbia" in a dictionary there would simply be a picture of Chamberlain Close. It was indeed the very definition of middle class respectability, the sort of place where an unkempt front lawn would make one a social pariah. Range Rovers were dutifully washed every Sunday morning, Songs of Praise was watched every Sunday night...
Written for Tammy in the USA, this is my attempt at writing with ‘an American voice’. Let me know if you think it works. Or if it doesn’t. Tammy, Jay and the stranger waited by the window for the three new guys to show up. Every now and then, one or the other of them – sometimes even both – would stroke her bare ass or slide their fingers between her slick...
Maria closed the door behind her and her stiletto heels began to echo inside the emptiness of the church. She was completely alone, except for the shadow of a man flickering on the wall opposite the confession booth. No one ever came to the church anymore, God had been dead in these parts for a long time and there was just no one who believed in religion any...
Editor's assistance please. This is my first effort and I would appreciate help. ***** My wife, Julie, and I had been back in the States for a few months following three wonderful years of living in Germany where I had been stationed. That Friday evening we were enjoying the end of the week. My head was in her lap as we listened to music playing softly on...
This is my confession. A confession of something that I would not tell anyone in my life about. My partner is abusive. I often doubt myself and wonder if perhaps he's not. Perhaps I am misinterpreting things. I think individuals discredit things when they actually happen to THEMSELF. I have caught myself thinking "Well it doesn't count if it's happening to m...