
Send Private Message
Last Login: N/A
Writing Since: N/A
Occupation: N/A
Hobbies: N/A
Awards: N/A
Number of Stories Written: 48170
[Edit My Profile]

Login to add author to favorites




(5 votes, average: 5.00 out of 5, rated)“That was 22 pages.” Bette stated more than asked. “It was just one night.” “Yeah, Papa started drinking at the party right after. Mother left me with Ana so they could “socialize” without watching me. By the time I saw them again, Papa’s eyes were glassy and she could barely hold him up. She had
In the middle of the night after they had made love earlier Bette wakes seeing Tina asleep. Bette props herself up, resting her cheek in the palm of her hand as she stares at the beauty who is lying beside her. The moonlight glowed across Tina’s bare back. Tina’s golden locks spread out across her




(4 votes, average: 5.00 out of 5, rated)It was late afternoon on board the yacht ”My Surprise” when we’d both agreed, it’d been too long since we’d had a date together. Dancing close, our hands played and imagined with lover’s signals the many hidden places we’d felt content to stir and dream of finding later. ”I feel very lucky you were free




(8 votes, average: 5.00 out of 5, rated)Lying in bed next to Tina, the baby asleep nearby in her cradle, my mind begins its uncertain drift – in and out of a satisfied state. It’s been a wholly new experience having Tina back, after so much uncertainty, after controlling my rage to not wrap my belt around Helena’s neck in revenge for




(4 votes, average: 5.00 out of 5, rated)January 20, 2017 Inauguration Day – Early evening On the drive from the barn up to my house in the hills, Maria follows me in her dinged-up silver Volvo, an urban warrior, with its telltale signs of knocking metal against metal for hard to find parking spots in D.C. Her reflection in my rearview mirror




(4 votes, average: 5.00 out of 5, rated)Redheads, (The Effect of)January 16, 2017 – after midnight Four days until inauguration – Up from what feels like an underwater sleep, I roll over toward the sound of her whispering. ”Bette,” she says again. Under the glow of another century, she’s draped across a chaise longue, almost nude except for heels, almost close enough to touch,




(0 votes, average: 0.00 out of 5, rated)Describing what was going on was difficult. Conscious thought receded as Tiler landed kiss after kiss on skin that tingled soon after contact, stoking lust that radiated outward in waves of heat, as Jia felt her breath hitch and catch on her throat. I need words to remember this. Words I should try to gather,