All right, this is where I pause so the people who complained that there was no sex in the last one can get vocal. Wait for it, wait for it....now. Feel better? I'll say it again, the most powerful sex organ is the brain. I put it in loving wives because it's the classic story, man loves, man loses, man moves on. Statistic show at least sixty percent of you...
It's not often that I write in the third person; but here goes for a short tale that's been kicking around for a while now. A version of it has been available elsewhere for sometime. However, it would appear that I am no longer satisfied of writing very short stories and having read this through again; maybe I want to know more about these characters myself....
Introduction: Here's another story everybody can get pissed off about. I hope you enjoy it anyway. Read the whole thing before you get mad. Don't get mad at me if I say anything about any group of people; it's just part of the story. Please leave a comment and vote when you're done. Here goes! Its late spring; a husband and his wife are in their kitchen....
Lottie Daniels was never destined to be a trophy wife. She had good looks and a great body as a young woman, certainly. But she was smart – she had a first rate brain. She was academic, popular, and was obviously going places. She graduated with really good grades, went off to a top college where she ran for student governor, then secured a legal degree at a...
It was the Saturday after Thanksgiving and I was exhausted. I had been up since 5:00 a.m. because I had (foolishly) volunteered to drive my sister and her family to the airport in time to make their 7:30 flight back to Phoenix. And instead of just going back to my hotel and getting a couple more hours of sleep (after a long night of drinking the night before...
Friday and Saturday It is a cliché of the high school movie that the social structure is rigid, and it is almost impossible to change your status. That once you are classified as a nerd, a jock, a stoner, or a popular kid, you are locked into that status for four years barring something like getting super powers. As a nerd and social outcast, I had always h...
It was just another day in paradise. Or at least that's what most people observing from the outside would surely think. Here I was, lounging by the pool in my skimpy pink bikini and soaking up the rays while maids and butlers saw to my every whim. Whether it was supplying food and drinks, applying sun lotion or even just fanning me I had servants to see to m...
I work in the PR department of a southern university. We have a media program here, for which we host a series of Women in Media lectures. These events draw their speakers from the ranks of women in broadcast media. My part in it is to arrange for the participants to travel to us and handle their accommodations. I have met some wonderful ladies who are compe...
I returned to college after laying out several years because of a shortage of funds and no shortage of lousy grades. I was twenty-one when I went back for a second try, still a second quarter freshman, and as yet unencumbered by spouse and family. My high school friend—we'll call him Bill for purpose of this story—was in a similar situation, but he'd returne...
Brooke Johnson was a beautiful woman. Her face was pretty and she had long, soft blonde hair that was propped up into a very tight bun. She had large breasts, yet a thin waistline. Her firm bottom was covered by a black Ponte-knit pencil skirt that stopped just above her knees. Sheer, glossy pantyhose matched her milky skin tone and ran down to her feet, dre...