The onset of puberty invariably brings with it the dawning awareness of sexuality, of a childs inherent masculinity or femininity, and the struggle to put that sexuality into proper perspective.
As this story comes to commence, my brother had been doin’ the nasty with my mama for a couple of years. Now, I know in a lot of circles, that this kind of activity is frowned upon in the extreme and extended periods of jail-time are meted out to the practitioners. But I believe it is incumbent upon those who would condemn such societal outliers to weigh all circumstances before striking the gavel of justice down upon them. Fer instance, we reside on a farm in the middle of goddamn nowhere. Out here in the boonies, as they are so quaintly referred, all we’ve got for collective intercourse besides our immediate relations are chickens and a very misanthropic goat. Our mother had suffered from loneliness somethin’ terrible after dad passed and she had taken to tippling on the weekends. She was never a mean drunk but sometimes she would get a little sad.
Her name was Melanie. Her beauty was legend. Men came from miles around just for the chance to bathe themselves in her graceful aura.
Before I was married, I got an offer to buy my friends uncles farm after he passed away. It was a small farm, and had a nice little lake/marsh on it. The uncle knew I liked the place, and told his wife that he would offer to sell it to me for a good price. His widow made me the offer at the funeral, and I couldnt pass it up.
I work for one of the countrys major auditing firms as an auditor. Companies traded on the stock exchange are required by law to permit annual audits of their books by a so-called independent entity to make sure no funny business is going on with financial transactions or inventories. Its a living and not a bad one, for now. Most young accountants with their eyes on future six-figure incomes make their starts doing what I do. I make fifty-five thousand a year but I work my ass off for it, sometimes putting in seventy-hour weeks, rarely putting in less than fifty. Its the rat race at its finest, I wont deny that, but this job does have a few perks to it, one of them being the fact that Im often required to fly to other cities to examine the books in a clients branch office.
David was very depressed. His parents had been killed in an airplane accident. Hed been uprooted from his neighborhood and his school and moved out to his grandparents farm. There were no neighbors near the Snyders farm. The nearest house was two miles away and they had no kids his age. The nearest kids his age, outside of his aunts and uncles, lived six miles away. He found that out on the school bus.
I was posed with a dilemma. I wasnt quite between the proverbial rock and
Daddy, can I talk to you?” It was my daughter, Janet who had just turned 16 and is the apple of my eye. She is a beauty, but I could be biased. She stands about 5’4” weighs an athletic 112 lbs., has gorgeous light brown hair and brown eyes to match. Her skin is a deep tan from the early summer sun and her time spent outdoors swimming and gardening on our small acreage.
Synopsis: Jim Hartman is a paramedic in Heritage County, California. A man who has not been laid in years. Follow his exploits as he tries to hook up with Robin, the loose registration clerk at a local hospital, to end this dryspell. The first in a series of tales written about this fictional county.
You get by being a war veteran in this country. For four years I flew airplanes for the US Army air corps in the European Theater of World War II. I laid my life on the line time and time again and was even shot down once over the coast of France just prior to the D-Day invasion. Where am I now? What has my grateful country done with me? I sit in a shitty convalescent home, dying of emphysema and congestive heart failure, an oxygen canula permanently planted in my nose, my breath so short I cant even get out of bed to go to the bathroom without assistance.
Heads turned as Mrs. Silverton gently led Katie into
Joan Frazer hurried down the worn linoleum hallway of old Montock High School, books and her class record under one arm, a small can of film gripped tightly in her other hand. Her long, satiny brunette hair cascaded over her shoulders as she walked quickly, her form-hugging dress stretching tautly over her body and accentuating the fluid lines of her movements.
Meghan felt a mixture of disgust and excitement as she gazed at the scenery alongside the highway. The disgust was for being here in the first place, practically in the middle of nowhere. The excitement was what she couldnt help feeling at such change, at moving to a new state, new house, new school.
After the newly converted-to-sex daughter Peggy left for home, it was back to just me and horny ole Helen romping in her boudoir every day or so. Peggy stayed around long enough to have my baby-making sperm fill up her still fertile, egg producing womb. She wanted to have another child, and Grandma Helen wanted another grandchild. Helens other child, a son a few years older than Peggy, was as gay as Hollywood hairdresser and was not about to populate the earth anytime soon. So, I was the sperm donor designate, as well as the hunky guy to sex-up Peggy as her mother Helen taught her a bit more of how to attract other cocks to meet her needy pussys desires. We spent a lot of time together in bed for two weeks under Helens watchful whorehouse madam-like supervision. When Peggy had to get back home to work, and figure out her new life with impending child, Helen and I just went back to our senior love nest life on the beach. I was beginning to think I might just like to quit work up North and stay here, but I wasnt sure how to make the finances work. Helen was generous, but not real wealthy.
I am a simple man, carpenter by trade. I specialize in making furniture and especially beds. I never thought that the day I delivered a particular bed that I would be so thankful for the fruits of my labor.
Jean, his mothers younger sister, arrived at the house bright and early on Saturday morning.
Since his wife took off with his best friend Brett Langer had lived alone in his country house some five miles from the city where he worked. The only inhabitants in the whole area, apart from a couple of farmers, were women at a nearby correctional facility. Unlike male inmates, they rarely made a break for it and when they did nobody worried too much.
I understand theres an apartment for rent over this store.
My Dad hired some itinerant workers who stopped in at the remote hamlet, all of thirty five people, three kilometres from our 82 hectare farm to work on some outbuildings round our dilapidated house. He lived on one floor to suit his ill health. I did too. The sprawling place that was home for Dad, Babushka, my sister who lived upstairs, needed a lot of work doing to it, but the old man could afford it. He was pensioned off from a lucrative government job. My mum died two years ago, leaving him sad but determined to keep up a good appearance both physically and materially.
A descriptive paragraph she had typed onto final draft the day before from her husbands current masterpiece raced sensually through Beth Ann Durkes young mind as she watched her handsome neighbor leave his expensive home across Tasman Drive and walk with a smooth, athletic grace toward his three-car garage. Mmmm, he did! He literally radiated virility! What had Jay entitled the book? HER LUSTY NEIGHBOR? Yes, that was it… and very fitting, or so it would seem. She remembered the exact passage:
Helen woke up slowly with the sum streaming through her bedroom. She
Those of you that have read of my earlier childhood know that when I grew up on my grandmother’s farm, we would just squat in the weeds to pee. All the boys (mostly cousins) would just haul out their dicks and piss. I would hide in the weeds or bushes, but the other boys and girls would make fun of me.
Everyone has heard or read something about the sex clubs. Almost every city in the United States — and possibly abroad — has its intimate club where couples get together and trade mates. It is common to find something about such couples in almost any daily newspaper, or you can buy a good book on the subject at almost any news dealer.
Although Americans appear to the rest of the world as frank and open people, the truth is often the opposite when it comes to relating on an individual basis. This is particularly true regarding sexual matters.