Just to warn you. No graphic sex in this story as usual, and not a single wife gets burned at the stake. ++++++++++++ I cursed the day that I'd sold the damn car, and then I double cursed the cursed damn day that that I'd bought the damn thing! Damn car! I'd fancied a Porsche all my life, and I found myself there, me pushing thirty, a four year old Ford...
This is a tale that primarily set in the middle seventies. It was half a generation removed from the civil rights movement. I live in a small county in a middle Southern state and I remember it well. Even now, racism is still present, but it seems more directed at the mass of illegals that has flooded the area. I could have put this in interracial, or mayb...
"Dwell on the beauty of life. Watch the stars, and see yourself running with them." Marcus Aurelius, Meditations * It's an old story, really. Been told a few times too, I reckon. About an old man -- well, not really old, not quite yet, anyway -- but an old man who's followed his heart and run into a few potholes along the road more or less traveled. A ma...
Author's note: All characters participating in or witnessing sexual encounters are 18 of age or older. ***** Begin::WeirdTrack: While He Slept Ch. 1 - BadDay; Start(WeirdTrack_BadDay(Intro)); There once was a girl and god loved her. Put like that it all seems so simple. Every life is so small and boring. No life is ever different. They think themselves u...
The last day. He had a shower, and standing there in just his towel he drank his first cup of tea, looking out of the window to see Mrs Booth on their balcony decking stretching and straining as she did each morning, only this time she had the most brutal looking pattern of red stripes on her arse cheeks as a vivid reminder of what they had gotten up to not...
Jill Cumbest sat back and rubbed her eyes. It was after ten, well past quiting time, but the market research she and her team had been slaving on for weeks was finally done. She had just finished getting it all compiled and presentable. Giving the final chart one last glance, she rolled her tired shoulders. A sigh escaped her lips before she saved the docume...
Copyright © 2020 Barrett C Carver. All rights reserved. No part of this story may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a review. This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any re...
Chapter 50: The Weekend at the Spa Jenny had packed everything: one luggage case fitted into the trunk, but the other had to stay on the minuscule backseat of the Porsche. When I looked at it, she grinned. "You don't need a lot of clothes: t-shirts, Bermudas, a blazer, slacks, shirts, and a tie; that's enough. I need dresses, gowns, nightdresses short and l...
Copyright PennameWombat May 2019 The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual eve...
Belinda could feel the sweat dripping down her torso as she gave her presentation. She had been expecting that she would be teaching the local Aerojet engineers and their manager at their branch office in Socorro, so she had dressed appropriately for a formal training seminar in a venue with functional air conditioning. Her skirt and matching blazer with a d...