(Schodt – Angel No. 8 Original Mix. Music begins @ here). Kate Kane looked downwards quizzically at her dresser, the redoubtable Raldi M'Raldi - the highly modern English-raised and educated, Sudanese private couture and bespoke fashion expert. “Are you sure?” She asked. “Oh yes.” He replied with supreme confidence. “But are you sure,” she re-iterated, q...
Heather Bentley gently sneered at her boss, Eddie Garcia, "Women's basketball isn't REAL basketball." "Sure it is," he said adamantly. "They can't do slam dunks but that just means they have to depend more on skill. That's why I watched that whole game." Heather pursed her orange-lipsticked lips, then shrugged, dismissing the subject. They were in the gre...
Amy sat back in her plush chair and thought a bit. Tonight, as with most Friday nights, was Tom's play night. Tom had already called her from work saying that he was in the mood for some entertainment, which was his terminology for a bondage filled night. Amy wasn't against this practice, because Tom was good at his game and she normally was rocked with seve...
This story is loosely based on my life, but is largely fiction. There is no explicit sex. If you want a stroke story, this isn't for you. I unlocked my front door. It was all I could do to open the heavy door and close it behind me. I took three steps and sat on the floor. How had I gotten to this point? ============== Sixteen years ago, I was a freshly...
Last year, I wrote a story entitled Foul Language, wherein a bitter, angry Geoff Matheson had been through an ugly, unjustified divorce from his wife of 30 years. The most dispiriting part of the whole episode was the vile treatment he received at the hands of his wife's divorce lawyer, one Claire LaPointe. Geoff survived the divorce, and moved to the West...
A lot of people are surprised when they meet me. I guess that's because they've all got preconceived notions about what it's like to be me. My name is Azizah Khalif, and I'm a young Black woman of Somali descent living in the City of Orleans, in provincial Ontario. I recently graduated from Carleton University with a Master's degree in Computer Science and I...
Laurie Catherine Fallon Day 50th: May 29, 1992 In my dream I held pieces of my skull in the crease of my temporal lobes. I imagined the place where the axe cut the stones or the guillotine set up to make the ritual more predictable. It was as if I lived in the blood of my menstrual cunt. I fumbled square balls transformed into testicles and I ran up the...
Ginnifer "Ginny" Pelletier had decided to leave school early on this afternoon. The classes she had on that day were ones that she could easily breeze through. In fact, 1 or 2 of those classes she could have taught. Despite the traditions that had been handed down in the Pelletier family over generations, it was widely accepted that Ginny would be the next o...
Islington Jayne's tongue lapped back and forth on Cath's parted vulva, moistening yet further that clitoris whose hardness was so familiar to her and savoured the comforting odours from within. Two fingers thrust in and out of the wet and welcoming vagina, occasionally twisting her hand to brush the knuckles and her smaller two fingers on the sweat-sodden p...
Chronicles of Drodge Mallea First Chronicle Drodge awoke feeling fuzzy headed and stiff. Actually, "awoke" wasn't quite right -- "came to was more like it. She sat up in the lavishly furnished boudoir, stretching her athletic 6-foot frame as she did. Running a hand though her short, thick copper locks, she slipped out of the bed, suddenly remembering tha...