"Yes ma'am, I understand," Karie said to Mrs. Willcott over the phone. "I'll try my best. Goodbye." Karie was a young assistant professor of History and Women's Studies at one of the top universities in the nation, but as she hung up the phone and leaned back in the comfortable chair in her office, the world in which she lived seemed different, as if a who...
There was something very special about Phil. A woman knows. She knows when she looks into a man's eyes; a woman can sense special qualities in a man. And that's how I knew Phil had something special for me. We met like any couple meets. I was dancing on top of my local bar with a girlfriend of mine trying to get guys attention by kissing her. I don't like wo...
The days of empowered women are long gone. There was a time when women fought to have their voices heard, demanded to be treated as equals and not as objects, a time when feminist wasn't a dirty word and meant more than "angry lesbian." Those days are long gone. Today, women live to be the voiceless, un-opinionated, glamorous playthings of rich, high-profile...
My girlfriend Becky and I were in the backseat of her car which we preferred to the cramped backseat of my compact. The seats were vinyl which made them cleanup after our makeout sessions much easier than my car's cloth ones. Becky's parents were great and they had embraced me from day one. They interacted very differently from my own parents who I thought...
My name is Annabelle Peggy Simpson, but you may call me Sister Peg. Everybody still does. Even though I'm not a Nun anymore. I was born and raised in the City of Trenton, State of New Jersey. With my Teutonic good looks ( I stand six feet two inches tall, with blonde hair and pale blue eyes ) I could have been a model or an actress but I went in another dire...
I'm a middle-aged straight guy, and a musician by profession. I've been lucky enough at this point to have had lots of wonderful as well as educational experiences in the areas of relationships, polyamory and sex, and I've heard many stories along the line of other people's experiences in these areas. I thought I'd share a few random insights, in case anyone...
The sun rose over the City of Djouba, South Sudan. As was his custom, Bilal Akol rose with it. Six feet three inches tall, lean and muscular, with skin of a rich mahogany hue, the young South Sudanese Muslim man rolled out his prayer rug, and began his prayer. He thanked the Most High for allowing him to wake up, and after finishing his prayer, he got ready...
As I drove to Roland's place of work I was a bundle of nerves, a very aroused bundle of nerves. Scared, but turned on. Worried about what I was about to do turning out badly, but I was also feeling something else, empowered, emancipated, confident, and very much in charge. It was heady and overwhelming. Much to my surprise it felt right. Having grown up in a...
AUTHOR'S STARTING POINT To start with, I would like to show my gratitude to everyone of you here who has run an eye and pored over my work of my imagination and pork pies in other cute and bitter words. Maybe they are not pork pies categorically—call it whatever fitting and seemly that you feel like and think suitable. I am aware, it is my unwarranted and e...
If my family knew I were doing this, they'd kill me and then dig me up and kill me all over again. Oh, well. What they don't know can't hurt them. My name is Rana Al-Sharif and I'm a young woman of Saudi Arabia descent living in the City of Toronto, Ontario. I'm in my first year at Humber College, and I've experienced a brand new world since moving to Ontari...