I looked back on my life and I wasn't really mad at anything. I had recently come home from five years of combat duty in Iraq and Afghanistan, and I wasn't angry at all. I had some great friends and comrades, and also some of the most memorable times of my life. The only complaint I had was that I was unable to continue to serve, and not all my friends retur...
I've been driving big rigs for nineteen years. You know the ones. They have eighteen wheels and the interstate highways are littered with them. They're ubiquitous, they're everywhere, and you always seem to get behind one when you're driving. You get particularly upset when they try to pass each other going uphill. Before driving big rigs for a living, I dr...
A special thank you to my partner in crime in this story - will_4_rp. You've been a 'brilliant' partner. :) Chapter One Lyla lay in the cool darkness of her bedroom, unable to sleep for the umpteenth time in months. She was tired, but even the comforting weight of her husband's warm arm did little to sooth her frazzled nerves and running mind. Something wa...
Disclaimer: Alright, this story is not to be read by anyone under 18 (or in some certain doomed places) 21. If you get caught jacking off by your mother/father/auntie/uncle/Grand Parent. Keep in mind it's not my fault! This is my first story so please send me constructive criticism to me via the link in my profile. Author's Note: Well this is my first story...
Several days later, after the party her parents had thrown for her, I had to tell Emily that I had to go back to Iraq. I would be leaving in the morning. She was crying and holding on to me saying, "No . . no . . no. You have to stay with me. I need you. I want you more than anything I have ever wanted in my entire life. I can have daddy fix it so you don't...
I was slower recovering from my wounds that we had expected; Jen was like a mother hen. She fussed over me and waited on me hand and foot. I really didn't feel up to going back to work. My Mom and Dad insisted that I take another week off; Jen was behind it I thought. She was rarely out of my sight. I couldn't help watching every move she made. She was so be...
Chapter 8: The Hero Remembers This story is a work of fiction only. Any chance resemblance to actual people or events is purely accidental. * I remember that incident in Iraq quite well. It's one of my clearest memories. 5 of us in a Humvee were going to one of the Iraqi government buildings where I was working on the computer network systems when we wer...
I moved down the aisle of the market, placing food for the week in my cart. I was moving slowly, the skin on my left side was still stiff and painful from the grafts. I reached out for the beef potpie with my good hand, the right one; my left hand was gloved to protect the healing tissues below. As I reached up, my hoodie moved back slightly on my head, enou...
I could not fucking believe my ears - but there they were, right in front of me, giving the news with seeming concern for my well-being but apparently without a fucking clue as to how it would be received. Maybe I haven't been emotionally demonstrative during my life but just because I don't wear my feelings on my sleeves does not mean that I don't have them...
Sunday and Monday were my nominal weekends, my consecutive days off from tending bar at the Sweet Spot. Since Harmony moved in six weeks earlier, I often spent part of one or both of these days and many nights fucking her. We were friends and neighbors but first and foremost we were fuck buddies. Often when the telephone in my apartment rang, I answered...