Heather quietly opened my office door, put her finger to her lips and shut the door behind her cautiously. She was wearing her long trench coat and carrying her handbag. She rushed across to my desk. "Log off! Now!" she hissed at me. I didn't know why but I did as she ordered. "Get your things. Turn your answer phone on. Now!" She seemed agitated but He...
Act I Valentine -I- Picture the most glorious, deliriously lovely spring afternoon the south of England ever dared to see. It was a day of such buttery warmth, spread in fields of fragrant grass and daffodils, when her 'loving' father and mother committed her. She was deemed "unfit for polite society due to mental infirmity" and sent to Mistress Halifax's...
Copyright Oggbashan January 2019 The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work. This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons. Sixty-one years ago I had given Margaret a Valentine Card. It...
Valentine sat on his bed in his own room at the order, it was the last night before he was sent out on an assignment on his own for the first time and he had to confess to feeling a bit nervous. He had been playing his violin but had laid it carefully next to him, unable to concentrate properly. The usually soothing music did nothing to dispel his anxieties....
We left the car by the side of the road about a half mile from the beach where Valentine and I first made love. It was her car, so there was nothing inside worth stealing. Valentine had made such a fuss about leaving her stupid cassette tapes, but I assured her that we hadn’t parked the car in 1989, and any self-respecting burglar would have lost interest in...
-XIII- When morning broke, the lovers awakened on the far side of each other, but had dreamt they were never apart. As she stirred, her world for once made of something painfully beautiful, Valentine knew a moment of pure joy. She rose glowing, chest burning with ferocious happiness. When grogginess faded and her mind was sharp with the day, her emotions b...
Copyright Oggbashan January 2005 The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work. This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons. * * * * * This morning, Valentine's Day, my post was the usual...
Look at them. The Valentines. They are heart-shaped being penetrated in love by Eros, by stiff, prong-ended, hard arrows - flared on the end, tapering to a shaft. The butt is likewise heart-shaped. So we love to penetrate them with a stiff, prong-ended, hard arrow, flared on the end, tapering to a shaft. Yes, look at them. So similar. Women love it doggi...
A beautiful woman was sucking my member. "What is your name, beautiful cocksucker?" I queried. "Valentine," she muffled. "And today is going to be a day you will re'member'!" "What's the word limit?" I asked Britishly, not knowing how much to say. "No limits," she fellated. "Only lust and desire. Those are my sisters: Lust is the Blonde, and Desire is th...
Her gaze was fastened on the blue and white swirls of the circular rug beneath her. At her left, right, front, and back were four separate doorways that opened onto four different areas of the house. She didn't know which door he would enter through, but she knew to wait. She'd received his letter instructing her to kneel there and wait, hands in lap, eyes d...