BAREBOATERS A Jim and Mary Story CHAPTER ONE Over Christmas Mary and Jim had discussed their plans for a bareboat charter with Isobel. She was enthusiastic and was going to bring a friend, but the friend never materialized. So in the end just the three of them went down to St. Vincent for the eight-day sailing trip. They had a fine sail down from Carri...
The next morning I was awakened by what to me had become a strange sound: the ringing of the telephone. As I went to answer it I realized with a start to what extent Paul and I had isolated ourselves from the world around us. We had, in effect, completely cut ourselves off from friends and social life, at first out of happiness with the self-sustaining conte...
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...
Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. Author's note: This story takes place after Season 7, but deviates from canon after that. ***** Sansa Stark was barely through the door of her bedchamber when she was forcefully turned around and pulled into a rough bruising kiss. For a horrible second she...
Hours later, Mitch lay awake in the depths of the night, his mind running over the events of the day again and again. What had happened here? Lady Elizabeth must have lusted after him ever since he turned her down. Apparently, she'd been so obsessed that she'd created an effigy of him with which she was living out her lewd sexual fantasies. How could she do...
When you wake up at 4:30 a.m. with an erection and a softly snoring girl in your bed, your mind naturally turns to sex. The moonlight exposed the rise and fall of her t-shirted chest and, as it only covered a small part of her ass, sex wasn't out of the question. Kissing her bed-warm ass cheeks was the beginning. As I moved down, into the valley between her...
This story is not based on any person or persons alive or dead. Since it is fiction there is no right or wrong way to write this, only different perspectives or opinions. If you have a different idea how this story should be told; good for you. If you want to share your idea of how you would write this please respond. Afterall this is for your enjoyment and...
Chapter 1: The village of Trevby Along came the crack of dawn, where sunlight peered through the sky, awakening with the gleam of red like blood across the horizon. Odo, being that he was nineteen years of age was thoroughly accustomed to the ritual of dressing up first thing in the morning, instinctually reaching out blindly for his braies, those baggy un...
Gregory Hastenbond was the first man I could call friend since moving near Rhineville. He is tall and large with the confidence that comes from someone both quick in thought and deadly with a sword. Like every interaction I have had with men, it had started rocky. I make men and some women uncomfortable, leery, and sometimes just outright terrified. It takes...
This is straight up fetish nastiness, along the lines of "Margery" and "Maddy". There is no sensitive story telling. In fact, there's nothing redeeming here whatsoever. There is nothing remotely realistic here, despite there being several autobiographical ideas in this. But still: There's piss and poop in this story. Don't read further if toilet slavery bot...