When I was back in my old life in the city, in the States, I would stay at work until late, almost dreading coming home. Now, in this new, slower-paced life with you, home is truly a haven, and I’m happy to stay within its walls. I’m home a lot now, working only part time. But on this day, I’ve been out running a few errands, and wasn’t home to greet you when you finished at your job. When I come in, windblown and happy, you’re sitting at your computer — still in the living room after all these months — shooting virtual fighter planes over Avignon, or wherever, and I smile. How nice to have a husband whose worst vice is imagining himself a WWII Click to read more
They call me Horse and I’m the caretaker here at the Vicar’s big house, since I left the army anyway. The Reverend Michael chose me himself, from quite a few l I’m good with tools and my hands but he didn’t seem to care. He licked his lips and walked round me. Half expected him to pat my flank and feed me sugarlumps. “You are so disarmingly innocent. Like a child in a man’s body!” He said. I am simple. But I ain’t stupid.
The Rev’s wife, Ruth, is much younger than her husband. My age, with chestnut curls and sky for eyes and she’s got those curves on her, too. Rev don’t seem to care about her neither. Not much care between them at all in Click to read more
I admit I’m not the sharpest tool in the box. I can’t say I was surprised when I got to Ed’s house at 8 when he had said 9, and I’m not in a good mood when I’m awakened early. Finding that my buddy wasn’t home worsened my mood.
“I bet that guy is a hello kitty fan.”
“Fuck off, Bree,” I mumbled, “this stopped being fun when I was in high school.”
“No, no, you’re supposed to say ‘true’ or ‘lie’, Vic,” my friend’s sister whined.
She had gotten so annoying. Ever since I had left my hometown in the middle of a flyover state, coming back meant seeing family and friends…and being pestered by her.
She didn’t shut up, however, “if you Click to read more
I’ve heard stories about news photographers who get shot because when they put the camera viewfinder to their eye, they forget that they’re actually in a dangerous situation and think they’re just watching something happening to someone else. It’s like extreme voyeurism. I know it sounds strange, but I believe it. I believe it because it happened to me.
I’m not a photographer. I’m an artist. Well, I want to be an artist. I take my sketchbook everywhere I go and when I get “in the moment,” I’m really transported away from where I’m really at to a place somewhere in my head.
So I’m sitting in the park — you know, the one downtown where all Click to read more
“Phil, You bastard” she screamed.
Winter stood red-faced and in tears in my kitchen barely able to contain her anger. She’d put on a lot of weight recently and, to be honest, she looked good. I’d always been in to bigger girls and her weight gain was hitting the spot. She had me hot all the time she was with me and I couldn’t help but touch her.
To be honest, she was just the same. Every time she’d come over she’d barely got through the door before we were ripping each other’s’ clothes off and running our fingers over each other’s bodies. She’d loved the changed up until now, feeling a new vigour and Click to read more
Charlie’s an “Angel”
“Charlotte! Are you ready for school yet? I have to go to the market to pick up dinner before I go to work!” I can hear my mamaw yelling up at me from the bottom of the stairs. I hadn’t even rolled out of bed yet. I shoot a quick text to my friend Jayne asking if she can take me to school. I do not want to go to school looking like I walked through a tornado. My hair was a complete knotted mess and I had mascara and eyeliner smudged all over my face. I didn’t get shit for sleep. I was up all night texting Jayne about my crush. Jayne’s the only one who knows I’m head over heels for a boy who’s taken by someone else.
I love running. It’s the endorphins, really. They are an addiction to those of us who enjoy it. It keeps me in shape and the charity races are always fun. Every week I run at a certain park. It has wide paths, fields of seasonal wildflowers, and shade trees. Just like a gym or a bar, there are regulars. They are the people you see ever week or so with their dogs, children, and their cells phones.
Many people walk at the park while talking on their cell phones. That is what “Poodle Girl” does. I see her just about every day. She is a beautiful sight: dark, straight hair with soft highlights cut in a very trendy bob, medium brown mocha skin, Click to read more
I admit that I’m a predator. Women are my prey, especially eighteen or nineteen year old virgins or inexperienced sweet young things. After fucking a new twat a couple of times, I normally dump them despite the fact that most have become emotionally involved with me. Three, Betsy Smith, Cheryl Thompson, and Rebecca Simpson, took it particularly hard and dropped out of the college that we mutually attended. I heard through the grapevine that Betsy may have attempted suicide. I thought that maybe I was incapable of emotional attachment because I didn’t really feel too bad for any of them – I was just using their pussies.
How do I get away with Click to read more