This is a follow up of my first submission, "Her Awakened Desire". She awoke with a start. Damn these dreams. She had been plagued by the memory of that night. It had been weeks and the memory of him, of his touch, was burned into her very soul. No matter how hard she tried, she could not shake the hold that he still had on her. She knew that it was use...
I just wanted to drop her off and get home. Our first date had been a disaster. On her personals web page she looked OK, blonde hair, regular features and a good figure. She seemed quite posh so I chose a new Italian restaurant. It had received rave reviews in the paper. But they couldn't handle the rush on the last Saturday before Christmas. The food was le...
Black men the world over got this nasty habit of walking around like they own the place. Act like they're the toughest guys. Swagger like they've got the biggest dicks. And I both love and hate them for it. My name is Jeannette Saint-Mathieu. I was born and raised in the town of Cap-Haitien, in the North side of the Republic of Haiti. I've been living in the...
From the moment she took his hand, Shayna felt the electricity. Like walking across a rug and touching something. A vooom, a kapow!! the spark of immediate attraction. Brad was a man she wanted to know much better. Dinner was magnificent - Shayna supposed. To tell the truth, she could barely remember the meal - she was so lost in this man. And he in her, it...
* The players * Milly a married woman, pretty, good figure and about 28. Gerry, Milly's husband, handsome about 32. Jillian, single, attractive, but with a great body, about 24. She was at the same school as Milly. Optional. A second cameraman. * The scene. * A pleasant rumpus room with bar and leather settee, bar stools and good lighting. The Optiona...
Pierre was, above all, a man unlikely to evoke superlatives in any consideration of him, and powerful was, perhaps, the least likely. Adventurous , needless to say, never came up in the same sentence as his name, and seductive would have brought a laugh to any woman's lips. The best that could, and ever was, said of him were rather ordinary assessments. At w...
This a sequel to my earlier story, Lunch with Satan. It was a dark evening in the club, waiting for its prophet to perform. Several couples sat at tables, drinking and talking, flirting and teasing, looking and being watched. A skinny, young looking waitress in a short, dark uniform glided from table to table, her dark hair done in spit curls with a rose pe...
There are few feelings more suffocating graduating from college, returning home, and facing the prospect of grinding out the years in the middleclass mediocrity of small-town America. Or so I thought. I had dreams to be a writer and to live the life of an artist. Which is to say, I was jobless, and found few sympathies among the residents of Minnetonka, Minn...
Predictability in a marriage may be comforting, but it tends to dampen the excitement, particularly the sexual excitement, attending the blissful period of discovery and familiarization through which a marriage passes all too quickly. Mary and my marriage had passed through that phase and had entered the comfortable, if somewhat dull, stage in which each of...
2003: Mozart’s Eine Kleine Nachtmusik played relentlessly as Rosanna squirmed out from under Casey and began searching frantically for her cell phone. “Dammit! Where the hell is my briefcase, Casey?” She yelled as she ran from corner to corner. “Calm down, Ross! It’s only the phone,” Casey said languidly, enjoying the spectacle of a very sexy, very naked...