"I swear sometimes I think I'm cursed," Robin complained, sitting at her favorite coffee shop one evening with her best friend Brandi. "You've just had a couple of bad dates," consoled Brandi, her eyes searching around the nearby tables for any guys who might warrant her attention. "A couple of dozen bad dates," corrected Robin. Her dark eyes stared down i...
Queens, New York It was difficult telling whether the Gypsy stripper was moving around the pole or if the pole was just moving around her. She slipped around it like a silk ribbon, twisted her body around it sensuously. Her full, pouty lips were parted slightly, as though she were silently moaning. The evil and cruel Albanian club owner and sex trafficker...
The Loving Marriage of Christie & Jason McTavish "Ach, gah ayem, uh what...'m sorry!?!" I stuttered in total disbelief. My face must have been doing one of those comical 'Saaay! Whaaaat?' routines. George pulled his beer can away from his mouth and repeated himself. I just gaped slack-jaw at him. My overloaded mind, suffering through cascade failure, de...
She was heading up to Cordoba's room. What could he possibly want now? At this critical moment, there was no time for games, and Cordoba loved games. Oh, he never called them as such. He never even insinuated that it was foolishness that came across his mind. No, to him, he was a fucking genius. And geniuses deserved special treatment and every idea warrante...
Thank you all for your feedback and votes; they really do help me move on with the story. The complaints that some have are noted as well but then again, the very purpose of story writing is to build a world that the author is happy with and I'm happy with this one, dreadlocks or no. Thank you, again. Now to move on to Ch. 3. ***** Valery ran as fast as...
Author's Note: This story was quite experimental in its development. I saw an old television program some time ago that took place almost entirely within a remote fire lookout tower, and I thought it might be an interesting setting for a story. I didn't know who the characters would be, what their relationship would be, what erotic situations they would fin...
June 3rd 1885 Somewhere above The Stonewall Mountains If there was a sound more appropriate for calculating the lifting capacity of an ellipsoid roughly eight hundred feet in length than the music from a string quartet, I was not sure what it might be. I scratched away with a ballpoint pen I had purchased in Caladon from its inventor. He had gone on at l...
ELENA "Oh fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck put me down, put me down!" I screamed, peeking over Yavara's elbow at the thousands of feet of nothing between me and the ground. "Is that Castle Thorum off in the distance?" Yavara mused, "I think I see the Spearhead Mountains, but I can't quite tell. Maybe we should go higher?" "I'll kill you! I swear to god I'll do i...
Thomas Smith and Genevieve, daughter of Louis the Innkeeper, were married under the spreading oak tree on an early spring day just after the second plowing. The weather had held, bright and clear, until midway through Father Liam's benediction. He had been in the middle of the sentence "Fruit of their loins-"when a tremendous clap of thunder drowned him out....
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This story is erotic fantasy, set in a world of magic. This tale takes place in the same world as my core Danica story and all my other stories in Sci-Fi/Fantasy on Lit. The occasional use of "modern" measurements and such is a product of my fantasy world. I know most who read fantasy would probably prefer "leagues", "cubits", and "handsp...