This story is dedicated to Old Bill, who enjoys a fantasy tale of mature men and women. Thank God for fantasy, eh Bill? It keeps some of us sane. It gives some of us ideas, too. * As the sun broke through the bedroom window blinds, Mildred woke up in an aroused mood. Rising up and supporting herself on her elbows, with her hands at her sides, the top sheet...
Chapter 1 Death. Broken bodies litter the city streets. What is the meaning of all this killing? Freedom, stupidity? Maybe both, but only time will tell. I scanned my surroundings from my secure spot in the corner. My breath hitched when I caught site of a person trying to crawl out of the carnage that made up the street. I pulled the laces tighter on my t...
Charlie was struggling to get free from a swarm of opponents when he heard the referee's whistle and the siren indicating the game was over. His team had been defending hard for the last few minutes protecting a three point lead in their first Northern district Rugby League final. Now as reality set in they knew that they had achieved what was deemed impos...
Ch 6 (of 7) -- Women's stinky feet -- at 30,000 ft! Danny Dawson and his three former school pals, all of them eighteen-year-old school leavers with no job or training to go to upon their leaving education and, (would-be) 'career claimants', had duly reported to the location of their placements, as assigned to them by their local Job Centre. * The recen...
This story is part of an ongoing series. The chronological order of my stories is listed in WifeWatchman's biography. Feedback and constructive criticism is very much appreciated, and I encourage feedback for ideas. This story contains graphic scenes, language and actions that might be extremely offensive to some people. These scenes, words and actions are...
Bus stop tale. Authors note. All characters are of legal age. * I know this sounds like the start of a bad joke from the 1970's but I met a girl at a bus stop. We chatted as we waited for the bus to arrive and sat next to each other on the bus. She was gorgeous, long red hair, pale skin, a stunning figure and within moments I had fallen head over he...
Awnnn, you guys... I was just reading a comment I got for the first story I wrote for this site and realized my writing got so much better. It's all thanks to you. I have the best readers on this site. Really. You're all so amazing and supporting. Thank you so, so much. You really give a girl motivation to write more. Every single comment you leave me is a...
Sometimes it just slaps you in the face. My wife Janet and I are in our thirties. On the upper end, actually. I'm thirty-nine and Janet is thirty-eight. Janet is pretty in an ordinary way. After twenty years of marriage I'll admit that climbing her bones isn't as alluring as it was when we first married. Hell, I had to check the laundry to see the size bra s...
I cannot take it anymore... Everybody is talking about skiing... It so happens that I am very familiar with sports, generally speaking - I love to practice, not just sit in front of a TV and watch, while drinking some beers... Still, in spite of the fact that I've been, so many times, at the mountains, I have never skied. I talk with an office mate, who...
I've tried to write this one reversing the usual male/female characters. It's a slow burner with a gradual build up. The main character is American and I'm not, so I apologise if I have made any mistakes translating British to American. * Sitting at my desk, I find myself watching the office clock tick over to 12:30. Finally passing the midpoint in the w...