I’ve decided to post this here. My decision was born out of my belief that I will never be a successful published author. I’m not saying it because I want a pity party, just stating facts as I see them. I’m okay with it, but it doesn’t make my desire to write less strong. So …
Missy (2) and Cynthia have a start, but I’m admittedly curious about Patrick. Shit. Patrick bounced Kyle on his knee, silently cursing the slip of his tongue. What had possessed him to admit to the affair? A moment of weakness brought on by fatigue, surely. Work had been crazy and Cynthia had coaxed him into opening …
Turn on you stomach Raise that lovely ass high Spread impatient thighs Wide. Wide. Wider. That’s my girl A cunt so sweet Scenting the air I smell I inhale. All of you Let tentative fingers touch Slowly tease dewy lips Uh uh, not until I say Go until I say stop Show me what’s mine …
Not sure where it’s going but continuing on One. And Cynthia if you’re interested Missy tipped the bottle back, draining the clear liquid and grimacing at the burn. That stuff packs a serious punch for such a small dose of alcohol. Her leg bounced uncontrollably as her mind turned over the possibilities of being back there. It …
Intellectually she can see her worth Herself painted in beautiful pictures Being objective, she is a majestic being Except Her majesty is obscured by uncertainty The painting seems less vibrant And intellect can’t stop feelings. You feel me? Reconciling self is hard The world pities and destroys Not that she needs any help Or would …
Please A… Post dinner Post dessert Palate pleaser Plated perfectly Paired with wine Placed on the tongue Pierced by teeth Pleasant taste Pleasure? But who was most pleased?
It’s hard to just talk on here. I do occasionally because I know it offers you an opportunity to connect with me, but I never feel I have anything worth saying. Because my life is so damn boring… Case in point, I haven’t had a date since November. There are a host of reasons for …
Sticky fingers Sweeter than his smile Dripping cream Licking her lips Sliding tongue Her favorite dessert The rattle of the canister as she shook the bottle sent a perverse thrill through her. “Are you going to let me up?” She glanced over her shoulder at him and let the smile she’d been suppressing burst forward. …
What a facking preppy he was with his plaid button down, boat shoes, and those Nantucket reds. I saw the sunburn on the back of his neck from sitting on the deck of his gaddamn yacht for four hours, drinking beer and blowing smoke up his cronies’ rich asses. You could hear him talking stocks …
“Dinner is served.” The clink of silverware against porcelain should have grated her nerves. A porcine man to her left chewed with a vigor that rivaled that of the animal he resembled; nauseating in its sound and visual component. The woman directly across from her continued to drone on about her latest shopping venture in …