She came through my door in the early afternoon wearing a thin, summer print that flowed over her body like water. She was young and on the petite side, a bit smaller than I normally favor them, but her hair was long and the dress hinted at enough flesh to convince me that I wouldn’t be picking any bones out of my teeth when I went for my dinner. She was pr...
I hate flying. Not because I'm fearful of a crash, but because I suffer every time with the annoying popping in my ears from the rapid changes in pressure and I'm trapped inside the cabin with a mixed bag of humanity. Fortunately, most of that bag was seated behind me in coach as I enjoyed the benefits of being able to afford first class accommodations. Th...
WARNING TO NEW READERS TO THE SERIES - This is a long, rambling story and VERY British which has been divided into several parts for ease of editing and reading. The individual parts will make more sense if read in sequence as they follow straight on chronologically. Whilst this is a stand-alone story some readers may recognise some of the characters from my...
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...
Cuando el amor no es locura, no es amor "When love is not madness, it is not love." -Pedro Calderon de Barca Author's Note: What follows is a love story, something that's been rattling around in my head for a while now. Hopefully I've managed to do it justice. If you're looking for a quick fix (and you don't scare easily) I refer you to my 'Jack' series o...
It was a hard day at work and I just wanted to go home to my overstuffed home and watch some ball while lounging around in my underwear. I wearily turned the key in my front door and walked into the living room of my one -bedroom dropping the backpack containing my soiled uniform and quickly unbuckling my pants letting them drop to the dirty carpet. My half...
Content Warning -- This chapter could have been published under the category Erotic Couplings or even Romance; however, I put it in Loving Wifes because this section is a prelude to chapters that are definitely in that category. I'd rather not have anyone begin this piece and then complain. In case you are new to the Loving Wifes category, it is not about ro...
2017 The penis that was sliding in and out of me belonged to Simon, a forty-seven year old asphalt plant manager. I'd learned over my thirteen months of promiscuity that men liked it when you remembered their names. When they saw you searching your memory bank for the details, the light in their eyes died a little. Even the married ones wanted to be rememb...
A little insight to who I am and why I am like I am. * I used to work in the Sex Industry. No, not that part of it... Not yet at least. ;) I was paid to sit on the end of a phone and talk to people. I was a Chat Line Operator. Paid by the hour, to sit and talk. I didn't set out to be a "Paid Sex Worker", I was young, I had rent to cover and it started...
This is a very old and deeply disturbing gay male, rape and revenge story, one that's been kicking around in my folders since I began to write the Manchester arc that would lead to A Portrait In Blood and Underwear some four or five years ago. It's among the darkest of the Vampire Arc tales, hence it's posting in Erotic Horror. I'm a liberal soul at heart bu...