From the backstage wings of the Lucky Nuggett lounge-stage Victor Redgrave studied Sherry Trent (that was her stage name) as she held the boozed and gambling-weary Las Vegas audience spellbound. Even at sixteen, his daughter Sherry had stage presence that some veteran singers might envy. Guitar in hand, her fringed, white western attire so tight-fitting it had the male members of the audience open-mouthed, Sherry held the entire audience in a near-hypnotic trance. Charisma, some critics called it. Victor knew it was sex-appeal. Whatever it was, Sherry had it — in spades — that and an incredible vocal talent that had raised her Nevada price to four-thousand dollars a week.
Come on, Don, baby… the boys wont see… well go into the garage! Carolyn anxiously tugged on her future husbands sleeve and guided him with determination away from the ranch-style house toward the garage.
The fantasies flashed through his brain in little lightning shocks. Lips caressing the backs of upper thighs, licking softly, a white leg rising up an inch or two with each wet kiss… the aroma of untapped moisture from a steaming body, a hot fragrance. His testicles filled to bursting… plunging for the blessed snarl and gulp of the sticky mouth bath… spreading and splitting those thighs apart, burying his face against the drenched and turgid cavity… his tongue wet-sliding, dipping into the naked throb itself, toying there with the fire-hot vulva heart, licking and encircling the clit in a feathery rage… the candy taste and the swallowing of the creamed pussy.
This is another story that takes place in the timeline of a major world war. It does not pick up where Collateral Damage left off, but is rather another slice of life from the time period Ive envisioned and actually takes place earlier than Collateral Damage, during the most desperate portion of the war, when the enemy is driving into the United States, seemingly invulnerable. For those of you who wrote telling me you found Collateral Damage too dark of a story to be enjoyed, I would suggest you not read North of the River. It is even darker. For everyone else, please let me know, as always, what you thought of it. As with all of these stories Im posting, they are all self-contained stories capable of being enjoyed by themselves, and all potential first chapters in an ongoing series. I make no promises as of yet to continue them.
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.
Hello, My name is Austin and I am a closeted gay man who is also a virgin. I always had the biggest crush on my roommate and also best friend Anthony. We met freshmen year in college and hit it off ever since. Anthony however is straight and just recently broken up with his girlfriend of 2 years. I always had the biggest crush on him but it wasnt at first sight. It just happen one day, I looked over at him and thought to myself damn your fine.
Of all the students in Sheridan High, Robert Haleys mother, Beth, was the best looking by a long shot. She was what they called statuesque standing 511 and blessed with the figure of a swimsuit model. Back then if you didnt know she was 38 youd probably have guessed her to be in her early 30s at the very most. She was divorced some time before she and her son Robert moved to the little midwestern town of Sheridan and the two of them lived on the edge of town where she pretty much kept to herself, not socializing with the other moms or anyone else, for that matter.
Suzi was a stunningly beautiful young woman with
When I first met her she had been divorced for several years and was different from any women I had ever met. She was a throwback to an earlier time. A very gentile southern woman with beauty, charm and warmth not common in women today. She was never vulgar always dressed appropriate and was a calm, kind and loving woman. I wondered when we first met if this was part of her act.
Synopsis: He gets the sole custody of his daughters and that puts him in a very good situation to be in contact with all the lonely mothers in the neighborhood.
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.
It all started a couple of years before I was even in high school. A group of guys who pretty much hung out all the time together started this game. They were constantly bragging about which girls they’d bagged the night before or some kinky thing they did. It got to where the stories were so elaborate, they decided to make a big poster-board chart of the various girls, what their kinks were, which would do what, who had done them and how. This way, if a guy was interested in doing one of the girls on the chart, he knew exactly how to get her and what she was into. It pretty much guaranteed success and saved a lot of time and effort.
The Sisters Savoy they were known as, when they had their nightclub act. They sang and danced and told funny stories about growing up triplets. They were each as beautiful as the other, even though they were never that famous. I broke up the act you see, when mom became pregnant with me. That bulging belly broke the symmetry of the three and they never got back into show biz after that. Susan, my mother, married my dad, a local hardware store owner. Shortly after, Aunt Sylvia wed a rich man, who died when his private plane went down, a few years back. Aunt Sally hitched her wagon to a long distance truck driver, who was seldom in town.
FUCK YOU you stupid, ungrateful MOTHERFUCKER!
Description: A young versatile university PhD professor is tired of being the object of derision as the pocket protector guy. When offered an opportunity to join a unique company, he takes a chance and enjoys the transition.
This is a true story of what happened to us about three
Let me start by telling you a little about myself. During the time of events, I had just turned 18, I was your typical teen. A bit shy, kind of a loner, grew up in shitty lifestyle. My dad was out of the picture and my mom, well my mom, let’s just say she should not have been a mother.
I can not endure another night alone! echoes across the world as desperate cries of pain, originating from within the sterile white walls of small apartments everywhere.
Chapter One – The Beginning
Small, remote towns seemingly maintain a middle-class, stable outlook which in reality masks the turmoil existing behind drawn blinds.
My name is Karen and, as some of you may recall, I am
Maxwell Alexander eased back in his plush desk chair and
Although the bedpost could have provided support for his venture, the skinny hairy man was too drunk to notice. He balanced on one leg and regarded the sock — his arch-enemy of the moment — curled enticingly around his toes. He grabbed for it, missed, grabbed again, finally managed to pull it up at least as far as his ankle, took that for a victory, put his foot back on the floor just in time to avoid a fall. He remembered the voluptuous girl on the bed, frowned at her, began the search for his other sock.