In our country the Monday just past was a public holiday, making what is quaintly called a 'long weekend' of Saturday-Sunday-Monday thereby proving conclusively that all weekends are not the same length. So what does a writer of adult fiction do on a long weekend to differ it from the standard length weekend? Why, write adult non-fiction of course. So I sat...
Walter watched the cartoon video in some awe. It explained, in the cheesiest 1950s-style way possible, how nanobots were injected into a woman's bloodstream, made their way to her brain, and then coated her synapses, changing her impulses and desires. He looked around the room. A circle of men in matching jackets watched him -- beta-male types mostly, excep...
I’ve been rooming with Tom now for a couple of months. Tom’s in pharmaceutical research; I used to be in behavioural research, until I pulled one of my practical jokes once too often and got punted from the program—permanently. Tom’s a good guy and was willing to let me move in for however long it takes for me to get a new research gig. Who am I? I’m Jerry....
Residence Life: off campus. Women 18-35. Live-in position, expenses paid. Pay negotiable. Contact Mme Anne. That was all the ad said. I know what it looks like, and if I'm honest, I may've known, deep down, what it looked like back then, too. But it was the summer of 2009-I had graduated in 2008, at the worst part of the Great Recession. I'd spent the bet...
Do you realize that I, one of the classiest girls you know—if not exactly a sex bomb—was once a Gestapo-class cock-teaser? Ellen, what the FUCK does the "Gestapo" have to do with this? Do you have the faintest idea what you are saying, girl? I was 18 years old and every school day I wore a navy blue skirt, white blouse, cream knee socks, a wilted red scarf...
She tufted at her ginger fringe before giving a sensual pout to the mirror. An hour at the salon that morning left her with a high ponytail and bangs that took five years off of her. She couldn't help but smile, the finest feathering of wrinkles against her freckled skin belied her three decades on this Earth. Hmph. That won't do. But it was nothing a bit of...
After the number of times I had cum the day before, I didn't think I would ever get a hard-on again. But I was awakened by Tina sucking my cock eagerly, and my cock eager to be sucked. We were both still naked, and the room still carried a subtle odor of our earlier escapades. Stacy was no longer in bed with us, but I could hear the sounds of the television...
Carol and I celebrated our twentieth wedding anniversary earlier this year with a small get together at our house for family and friends. The whole gang was there. Our two boys, Jake and Harry; Carol's sisters Jean and Claire and their husbands and kids; my brother Tom and his wife Elaine and her barren womb; our either side neighbours, Eric and Suzanne and...
Lauren Oxley / July 14, 1984, 10:47 p.m. "Would you like to come up for a drink?" Jake seems hesitant. It's like he's almost afraid to get out of the taxi. He must be the first shy man I've ever met in New York. Except for David, that is, and he doesn't count. "Sure, I guess so." He hastily pays the cab driver and scrambles clumsily out. "It's still...
***Author's note: Warning, this story contains strong themes of racism, discrimination, and sexual enslavement. This is purely a work of fiction. I do not support racism, discrimination, or sexual violence. Reader discretion advised.*** Chapter 1: The Gossamer Barnabus Morley straightened his safari hat and squared himself against the metal railing. His fe...