I saw her red hair first, a flash of color against the green and gray of the yard and driveway next door. From my bedroom window, I looked down. A green tank top tugged at a set of small, pert breasts. White shorts swished over long, slender legs and the tight curve of her rump. And that hair, that flaming splash of red in the morning sun... An ache sprea...
Author's note: I hope you all enjoy my new story! It's been four years since I've done any writing so please bear with me on this one. All characters in this story are 18 or above. If themes with drunken sex make you uncomfortable, please don't read. Feel free to leave me feedback, or message it to me. Stay safe in these current times, and I hope you enjoy...
This story is about three people learning to try new things and being comfortable around each other. There is some casual interaction between the male characters, but nothing too heavy. If you're an absolute homophobe, this may not be for you. +++++++++++++++++++ I'd only been away from home a few months for my first semester at college when my Mother's A...
As usual no descriptive sex scenes in this story. This story was partially inspired by Bob Seger's song "Night Moves" but mainly by a relationship I had while in college. Constructive comments, emails, and critiques are welcome and appreciated. I hope you enjoy my story. I used her, she used me But neither one cared We were gettin' our share Workin' on...
I lay still for a moment waiting for the rumbling outside to settle then spoke softly with words in a question he couldn't possibly answer, "Did I miss my period?" Just as a loud crack snapped the air and the wind driven rain began slamming leaves and debris against the window glass in disharmony with the boom of thunder. Then for a few moments, a hush fille...
Wayne Kyleen Stonehammer. Who could forget a euphonious name like that? More important, who could forget Kyleen? It's been over fifty years, and my memory of her and that summer we met remain as vivid as a morning sunrise on a cloudless day. It was the summer of 1966. Lyndon Johnson was president. We were mired in Vietnam. Gas was around thirty cents a ga...
It must've been cruel fate that Claire Winters was born in the small town of Podunk. Podunk was not ironically named, even if its settlers had intended it to be. Or maybe it wasn't. Maybe "Podunk" was the name of the town's founder. Claire didn't know. She never really researched into the history of the founding of her birthplace. She did know this: This pla...
The finale...enjoy. * Chapter Eleven - Business As Usual The businessman sat in his cheap London hotel room sipping a Johnny Walker. He twiddled what appeared to be a business card between his fingers. The small black high-gloss card had the silhouette of a stylised schoolgirl with her skirt flung high showing off her stockings embossed on it in silver. U...
Chapter 1: The Dedicated and Delightful Detective Decker. Note: This is more a slow burn story, although I think it'll be worth it in the end. There's a large age difference between the main character and love interest (18 and 35 respectively), so if that bothers you, don't go further ahead. There's also a lot of swearing. ———— The first time I met Wil...
Most of the two-part Love Lies is written in the first person as narrated by Davey. The short section below is written in the third person to give the reader a little background on the character Kate. Kate is loosely based on my best friend's wife; a very good, small town girl; one of the nicest ladies I know who has kept a smile on my 'big-city' friend's fa...