Copyright 1999 Del Edwards (a nom de plume) Her name was Porticia Ortho, she had told him and even presented a business card with her name on it as she sat next to him on a long cramped flight most of the way across the country. Hell, anybody can have a card printed with an invented musical name like that. Probably the rest of the information on the card w...
I want this man more than anything. More than air. More than life. And what makes it all the more phenomenal? He wants me just the same. Me. Amy Sullivan. The eighteen year old plain Jane nobody from a broken home in the middle of nowhere Ohio. He has the face of a movie star, the sculpted body of an athlete, and the charm of a fairytale prince. Me? I'm...
THIS PART - 6:00 A.M. Stop staring? I can't. It's too late for that. It's been hours...two...three, nearly! We're lovers. I've fallen. I didn't sleep. I watched - pleading in silence, imploring even, please open your soft blue eyes. He's new love. He's dangerous love. I wonder if guys grasp it; if they understand what girls see. Maybe. Anyway, I can't...
Roni was depressed. Nothing that unusual, for she was often depressed, some would say she was always depressed. But this was different; it was not one of the usual topics that was depressing her. It wasn't her lank, mousy hair, her droopy 36 d tits, her sturdy thighs, biggish bum or podgy tum. It wasn't the fact that she couldn't find a real boy friend and t...
(Dedication; To Ted, for inspiration, passion, and confidence in me) **this story is based, in part, on actual events ****** I am lost in thought, as the steam from the coffee cup rises. Holding the cup close to my mouth, one hand on the handle, and the other wrapped around the cup, my thoughts go back to our first meeting. It had been after 10 at nigh...
"Call me they," said the diminutive, tomboyish, short-haired and curvy Native American gal as she looked me up and down from behind her desk, dripping with attitude. Snorting, I looked at her like she had two heads and they were both fucked up. Ever since I moved to the City of Winnipeg, Manitoba, from my hometown of Boston, Massachusetts, I'd seen and exper...
"To me it's not really a green. When I think green, I think of grass. That's more like lemonade color." Erica's nose was far too close to the glasses for my taste. Pouring the nearly clear absinthe over the rough-cut, cane-sugar cubes I favor, I tapped my spoon for a second to get her to back up. I wished I had my full setup here like I have at home, my Abs...
Eric looked at his wet face in the mirror, and let out a soft growl as he squirted the shaving gel into his hand and began spreading it across his face. He rubbed the gel in a circular motion to create a thick lather across his square jaw, between his lip and his straight aquiline nose, and on up his cheeks, stopping just below his blue-grey eyes. Those eyes...
George Meyer was pissed. Plenty pissed. "Fifty two fucking years old!" He ranted. "Twenty two fucking years of my life to finally get to the home office and now they want to fly my ass to Colombia? Fuck that!" He crumpled the e-mail which his secretary had printed out for him and hurled it at the wastebasket. As usual, it missed, joining the other missiles...
Tuesday morning, half an hour before the appointed time of midday, Kent arrived. I had already discussed most of the important issues at length with Melissa, prior to our involvement with her family. There were still a few issues remaining to be covered, mostly concerning privacy at Kent's new mansion. Kent had been pleased with the weekend interaction and p...