I never liked night clubs; noise, sweat and drink were not my style. It wasn't where I liked to find a woman, no finesse, no charm, just the animals in a pack waiting for the rut. No, definitely not my style. I stared into my beer, it tasted like piss. A little blond brushed against me, dark roots, leather shorts barely covering her big arse. Her friend stag...
/-- Eine Hommage an 'Rotlicht-Reportage' --/ Julia saß an ihrem Schreibtisch und seufzte. Sie sollte eine Projektarbeit anfertigen, aus dem realen Leben, eine Geschichte, etwas Authentisches. So war das Zauberwort, Authentizität hatte der Dozent mehrmals gesagt. Authentizität sei das, was einen guten Schriftsteller von einem schlechten Schriftsteller untersc...
1998 18 yrs. old. I'd been Angie for over a year. My parents passed suddenly, leaving me to live as I wished. I'd already moved to an apartment and had a couple of part time jobs. I had enough saved that I could quit and change completely to living as Angie. I never dressed as a boy again. I found work elsewhere. I had people convinced I was an awkward teen...
Inga stands 6.5 feet tall and was solid muscles. She was amazingly beautiful. She was true goddess. Her breast were huge and at cartoon proportions. They are like two gigantic beach balls. There was nice sexy curves to her body. Her hair is blond and her eyes are blue. He body is very tone. She superhumanly strong and durable. Her power is only match by her...
According to popular belief, Muslim women are supposed to be dull, boring and submissive. My name is Yasmin Hussein, and I'm a young Somali Canadian Muslim woman living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. I stand five feet eleven inches tall, curvy and sexy, with an angelic face, pretty dark brown skin, and the kind of thick, heart-shaped ass that can mesmerize...
I walked up to the end of the laneway. On either side were high red brick walls with blue-star vines hanging over the tops. A narrow strip of well-cut lawngrass travelled up on one side of the lane, and a two-paver wide footpath travelled up along the other side. It was a little cloudy overhead. And pretty cold. I was wearing a long sleeved two-ply cashmer...
"People are strange: They are constantly angered by trivial things, but on a major matter like totally wasting their lives, they hardly seem to notice." ― Charles Bukowski Carving blistered backroads ― the way a chef cleaves holiday ham ― the Korn King programmed his GPS for John Glenn's most imminent gangbang. Yes, that John Glenn ― dead astronaut. Someh...
Pathetic I was sitting at my computer, working on some writing, when Jessica knocked softly at the front door. I had been on a hot streak that day, getting some serious pages in on my latest novel, and finished the sentence before I responded. “Yes?” I called. I saw the clock, knew who it was – she was right on time, a very good sign. She and I had only m...
I'm sure that this won't be that popular a story here, but you might try to read it with an open mind. It includes gay male sex, so if that revolts you too much to be able to appreciate the rest of the story, then you might wish to move on to another story. This is just a quick flash story. While there is an opening for a second chapter, I do not have any p...
The Time Machine Voyage Two – Roman in the Gloamin’ Cleopatra was a chubby little tart with something of a moustache. She had a single eyebrow that seemed to be crawling across her forehead like a demented millipede and a bloody great nose. In short, she was the kind only a brother could love – but that was the Ptolemys all over. Yes, you’ve guessed it: th...