The chronological order of my stories is now listed in WifeWatchman's biography. Feedback and constructive criticism is very much appreciated, and I encourage feedback for ideas. This story contains graphic scenes, language and actions that might be extremely offensive to some people. These scenes, words and actions are used only for the literary purposes...
I Payal felt that her world had ended now that Shahnawaz no longer was around to support and love her. Rather than things improving, given that he had been very successful in his business ventures and Payal had gained a name in journalism, everything had collapsed around her instead. Within hours of his demise, scores of people had descended to express th...
An icy November breeze whipped through the near-barren trees. Small brown leaves, already curled in upon themselves from the sudden cold snap, broke away to fall awkwardly to the ground. Shrouded in thin sheets of frost, they fell hard and fast, crunching softly upon the cracked and worn sidewalk. It was the sound of autumn crumbling away. The winter that th...
But 'Oh the pleasure' in the end, (No pun intended) . A true but cautionary tail of fantasy, curiosity, pain and finally a dawning of a personal pleasure, when a young lady summons up the courage to try and find out what she missed as a teenager at school. (Do not rush to try this – if you have ever remotely considered doing what Carol did, think again, be v...
I was staring at my computer screen and counting the seconds until quitting time when a female voice penetrated my thoughts. “Knock, knock.” “What now?” I mumbled to myself. It had been a busy week, and I was perfectly content to spend the rest of my Friday afternoon staring at the monitor and daydreaming. The last thing I needed was for someone to come...
Ballet One I'd taken up classes when I was 5 years old. My beautiful mother, Natalya, was an émigré from Russia and had trained at the Bolshoi Ballet in Moscow. Then, on a tour in the 80's to Canada she had defected; not because she hated the Soviet system but because she met my father Andre, a Quebecer. He was a dancer too, but had decided to leave the pro...
This is a story with veiling fetish. Many people have this fetish, though it's not that popular. In case you wish to know more or read more stories related to veiling fetish, do for tales of the veils on google. It's an educational site and also contains stories related to the veiling fetish. I would like to thank Nye North from TOTV for proofreading my sto...
This chapter was kindly edited. Great job. Thank you Mike. ***** On Wednesday afternoon Todd dug out all his acting skills to look as indifferent to Amanda as he could muster. He thought a fearful expression clouded her beautiful face, probably wondering if this was not completely feigned. With every passing day after the encounter with him Monday morning...
It was a sunny Saturday in early March, around noon- we got up late due to a late evening Both Amy and I were hanging out in jeans, t-shirts and socks- her long soft dark brown hair in a ponytail ... my hair-long since gone. The kitchen of my duplex still smelled of the French toast feast we had just finished, after a heated debate over the proper vanilla/ci...
[This story contains oral, vaginal sex, affection, a bit of exposed sex, and an exploration of the word adventure. There is a motorcycle in the story and if you hate motorcycles and the folk who ride perhaps this isn't a story you would enjoy. No cheating wives/husbands, no orgies, no BDSM. It is in the Mature section because the main characters are sixty ye...