My name is Linda Blain. I am an established fashion designer in my mid forties. Alistair, my late husband, was a psychologist .he'd developed a very successful private practice. We lived in a charming Devon country home by the river Fen near Fenley in the early eighties, a beautiful unspoilt typically English village situated just three miles away from our h...
This is a copyrighted original work of fiction. All rights reserved. All characters featured herein are at least eighteen years of age, even if not expressly stated. Any resemblance between actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental. Many thanks to Michael B for the fine editing work. Many thanks to blackrandl for organizing and including me...
We began the relationship slowly, cautiously. Larissa had been divorced for two and a half years, myself for nine months. She had been with one other man in that time; I had been with myself. We each had kids. We each were busy, very busy. We each bore scars. We met at our daughter's soccer games in South Pasadena, a very contented upper middle class town...
Penelope had totally forgotten about the Auction. Her life was too hectic, too rushed to allow her the luxury of ordinary events. Thinking back, she realized it had all begun years ago, in college. Her freshman roommate, Katherine, was her antithesis. They spent the first few weeks warily circling each other, not to sure how to co-exist in the tiny cell of...
I scanned the sparse crowd, surprised I hadn't seen him yet. Colin always had some girl on the line by 11:30. The pickings were really slim, though. A score of people, myself included, had braved the heavy rain to come out. We all had to be crazy. What else would make me, Becca MacReady, intrepid author, come to Club Elysium on a Tuesday night when I should...
WARNING: English is NOT my first language - I have learned it in school and practiced it a lot in trading, but this is (even though pornographic) supposed to be literature. So please bear with me, or, if not, just read something else. ***** I also need to mention that the story is true, only depicting my personal experience(s). All the names and/or place...
When Suzy went in to shower Bill and I stayed on the deck and had another beer. Bill refilled the bowl of weed and as we passed it back and forth he told me that he doesn't mind kissing his hot wife after she sucks him off but won't do it with somebody else's jizz in her mouth, let alone all over the side of her face. I told him I agreed as I had no urge to...
“Now we have finished recognising each other’s holes” you say “it’s time to move onto the final quick-fire round.” You, John Doe, cannot believe your luck. To celebrate some TV landmark, which you could not care less about, ITV2 ran a video competition to become the “Celebrity Juice” presenter for one night. The film you made got you into the final 10 and th...
Kelly looked at herself in the mirror, pulling the bottom of her bathing suit tight against her crotch and running her finger up the crevice between her labia. She stepped back and looked at the strip of fabric covering her crotch, but all she could really see was the gently rounded mound of her vulva. Nothing was clearly defined. It was just the rounded mou...
Author's note: I remember saying in a "to write" list I made to write a lemon with a particularly moving scene from a movie in mind. This is not that lemon. This is just a shot at trying to make a lemon work on its own in my hands. I won't try to make this a conscious stab at avoiding the PWP storyline, nor will try to crash into that general direction. Don'...