Ali had a tough day. He was quite tired and looked forward to getting a refreshing chilled beer after handing over the bus at the depot and reaching home. Ali was a Muslim. However, like many Muslims, he indulged in the lure of the liquor, occasionally, when none of his fellows were around. She was the last person in the bus to get down. He had noticed her...
Masooma was Sanjay sahib's guide and so far proving herself a nice company. Somehow, this young Pakistani girl along with his daughter, Rekha, convinced him that he needed to get out of the house for some fresh air and sightseeing. His wife stayed home, saying that she was too "old" for the aimless, endless walks. Surprisingly, Rekha encouraged her mama to s...
Alexa was introduced in my story "Couldn't have done it without Alexa." Her husband's corporate rise was aided greatly by her machinations and willingness to go the extra mile. The story was told from his point of view and left much to the imagination. But since Alexa was the one experiencing what was going on, whether her husband was able to witness it or n...
The sun rose over the horizon, and I closed my eyes. Normally, this would mean it's time to sleep. However, with ash clouds blotting out much of the sun, a perpetual gloom hangs over Boston's battered skyline today. This means I can still go hunting. Last night I fed, draining a young White Muslim female spy of her blood. It's morning and I'm still hungry. A...
Javier laid his head briefly on the steering wheel before getting out and walking to the farmhouse door. It turned out that missing a couple days of class and homework was no joke. Esther seemed to be catching up fine, but two days after their escape from Oregon he felt like he'd barely spent time with her. That first night, of course they'd been too exhaust...
As Herberto tightened his hold around Alexa's waist, her body moved in to meld with his. I could see that he was being turned on by her proximity and that she was not objecting to the placement of his hands, one of which by now was caressing her rear end continuously and the other was rubbing her exposed back. This wasn't just a friendly dance at an office p...
"How's life, Steve? You look troubled," Ayesha Abdulmajid said as she looked pensively at the big and tall young black man who lay in her arms. Steve looked at Ayesha and gently stroked her lovely face, running his hand through her long, curly black hair. From the moment he first laid eyes on her inside that Tim Horton's one frosty December morning in the Ci...
Misha is fed up with being good; she'd very much like to be bad instead. Not awful, undermining all her hard work and diligent study had achieved, but please, just a little bit naughty. Far from the repressed Asian woman of out-dated stereotypes Misha was bought up in a liberal home where girl's educational attainment was encouraged by her parents, if not so...
I first spotted him walking around the Bay Shore Mall one fine Thursday morning. What started out as yet another dark, boring mid-August day in the City of Ottawa, Ontario, brightened up real quick for yours truly thanks to a certain vision of masculine beauty. Tall, lean and athletic, with chocolate-hued skin, short, curly black hair and a goatee. This one...
This is an unusual story so I shall let the protagonists introduce themselves. My name is Jazmine. My grandfather was an officer in the Indian Army at the time of partition in 1947/8 when Moslems left India and went to Pakistan and Hindus left Pakistan and went to India. He became an officer in the Pakistani Army and rose to a very high position which allow...