You had always been an ugly duckling. Growing up, your older sister was blessed with jackpot genes while you spent most of your high school evenings trying to figure out which Proactive treatments would work best on your face. Even your older brother didn't seem to have to ever worry about his looks. It was as if you happened to burdened with your looks due...
[After "The Ugly Duckling – Epilogue", (the sequel to "The Ugly Duckling"), was published readers were severely split on whether a further chapter was needed to clear up some outstanding questions; (as one reader put it: "An Epilogue to the Epilogue!") A majority wanted another story, with a minority, (but a vocal minority), insisting that everything that ha...
Or: The Randy Tutor and the Reluctant Student Janie was a typical ugly duckling; at twelve years old she had been chubby and self-conscious, but in the ensuing five years she had developed, growing taller and her figure fining down, and at eighteen she was still a virgin, although her full and curvy figure attracted attention. She had big breasts with large...
Author's Note: Big thank you to Secretsxywriter for editing and helping me to make this story better. *** Again, I woke up well-rested but sore. Scratching my itching thighs got my nails full of dried-up saliva and sperm. I rushed to the shower and scrubbed myself clean so hard, I was pink all over. I went through my apartment with the towel around my wai...
Once upon a time... Calla opened her eyes and blinked a few times. She had no idea where she was, but it looked like a hospital room. The walls were stark white and as she looked around, she saw no one. The bed next to her was empty and as she began to awaken, her body was radiating pain. She winced and cried out. She tried to move, but as she looked down,...
Penny tried to concentrate, but all she could think of was William's departure. She pictured him saying goodnight, turning, walking away, out of her life. It saddened her, yet, was inevitable. When she actually heard the words, they startled her. She wasn't sure if she had imagined it or if he truly said goodnight. Then he took her hand, bending low, kissi...
Emma locker her bedroom door. She could feel the tears running down her cheeks already. She slowly sank to the floor of her dim lit room; one hand still on the knob. Sob after sob escaped past the hand she pressed over her mouth. Even now, at the rock bottom of her humiliation, Emma couldn't risk letting her family know how she felt. This had been the worst...
In my everyday life as a single mom I am reserved and conservative. I have never dressed provocatively. My wardrobe is usually classic and reasonable. A relationship, even a casual one, is not right for me at this point. I have not been with someone, or even dated, in a long time. I satisfy my sexuality through fantasies. I get a thrill out of being viewed...
How the hell did I get here? I've had this conversation with a fellow Lit author and we reached the same conclusion: everybody first finds this site for a reason. Duh, of course. It's like the old adage about playing cards: If you don't have a good partner, you better have a good hand. You find yourself looking for the stories tagged with a red H, maybe you...
Life for Emma was totally predictable. Work, television, bed, work. Social life, nil. Friends, nil. Interests, nil, well unless you counted wildlife documentaries, she loved animals, and the cheap romance paperbacks she read. Otherwise, there was nothing in her drab existence to write home about. There was only one mirror in her small tidy apartment. She d...