Growing up as a kid, I had a pretty low self-esteem. It wasn't my looks either. Like any teenager growing up, I hadn't as yet hit my maturity peak. Awkward, still growing into my rapidly changing body, with a shyness borne from a perception of myself, I tended to withdraw from making friends with anyone. By the time I had reached high school, I was falling...
My affair with Greta, the European Creative Director of the ad agency for which I worked as a freelance copywriter was over. We had never looked on it as being permanent, but it had been intense and passionate and had lasted six months. For a confirmed lesbian like Greta that was a long time and for a 'not quite sure' lipstick like me it had been a wonderful...
Featuring: One eminent author - Harry Rogers to his adoring readers Mrs Brown - his housekeeper (mostly absent) Malachai - his trusted procurer of festive entertainment Ariel (aka Tit-ania) - a call girl with small ones Brigid Groom - a well endowed teacher from next door ----------------------------------------------- Chapter One Snow; snow; snow! Frust...
This is a follow up on my previous story, Dust in the Wind. Knowing that (long) story may put things into context. 'Dust in the Wind' – the title of the first story – was obviously borrowed from a song by the rock band 'Kansas'; For the current story, I had the emotional song 'Why' from the Scottish singer 'Annie Lennox' on my mind. This story is not based...
America in 1956 seemed besotted with Peyton Place and the Kinsey Report and the boom in nudist colonies and the theories of Dr Freud. But schoolgirls in the Minnesota city of Brewer were homing in on their own sweet goal: seeing their male classmates stripped to the buff. Their male classmates nude. In their birthday suits. And more than that, nude- and hu...
The summer of 1970 was the time, and the place was Holland Patent in rural central New York State. Arthur Connors was a recently retired man of 65 with a lot of time on his hands, and after his wife of 36 years had passed away a couple of years ago, that time seemed to pass more slowly. Deciding to take up gardening, Art cleared out the area near the fence...
I've often asked myself how it is that I came to be so addicted to the worship of women's legs. I've never adequately been able to explain it even to myself. I will say that ever since I was a young boy, the sight of a firm pair of legs, preferably in a skirt, is enough to get my juices flowing, my cock hard, and my mind racing. In an age where everything i...
Author's Note: Jessi, the narrator and main character of this story, is a character from my recently completed multi-chapter series, A Tale of Two Paramours. This new series, Breaking Jessi, focuses on the immediate aftermath of Jessi's breakup with Mark Warner—the narrator and main character of A Tale of Two Paramours—and the short-term consequences of th...
When morning finally came, Zoe rose early to slip away and quietly shower, careful not to wake him. And when she came back into the bedroom to pack, Tate's eyes opened and he watched her silently preparing to leave him -- quite possibly forever. Watching her zip up her suitcase, his heart having risen in his chest to his throat, felt like it was choking him....
The following is the second episode in a new series, "Max Burnage." Each episode can be read as a separate story, but you may want to read the first installment to understand the full context. The following was inspired by Athena_e19's 2007 story, "Defending His Right." In that story, a wimpy husband sought help after witnessing his wife get raped. Unable t...