Marisa found the pub easily. The place had been described to her by one of her internet connections who knew of her propensity towards sluttish behaviour. He had suggested that if ever she visited England on business, a short trip off the beaten tourist track might be in order. The pub was in a well known British army garrison town, a place frequented almost solely by paratroopers, their reputation as wild men was well earned and Marisa had reasoned that these men would be able to give her just what she loved most, hard cock and plenty of it.
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I grew up with one really good friend all of my life. Billy had been my best pal since we were in first grade. In fact most people thought that we were brothers. He and his parents lived a few blocks over, and since my older sister seemed to have control over what was happening at my house, I spend a majority of my free time at his. It got to the point where I didn't even have to knock to get in. Mrs. Blair would always leave the door that led into the downstairs rec room open for me. Mr. Blair really didn't approve of this, being away on business as much as he was, but Mrs. Blair seemed to enjoy my comings and goings.
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Virginia hated her body. She was a big woman, with hips and curves who saw her self as fat. She tried to lose weight, but it never was as easy as all those commercials made it. At times she felt ugly and undesirable.
Not that she was a slob; she dressed nice and practical. She would never let herself fall that far. She just was not happy with her body and felt that no one would ever find her attractive.
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The band's manager turned to Erin and smiled. "The guys like you."
Erin's brown eyes lit up. "Do you think so?"
This would be her fantasy come true.
"I know so," the tall, graying man stated and handed the young girl a cloth pass marked All Access in bold white lettering. "After the show," he grinned, "knock on the bus."
If she had won the lottery, Erin wouldn't have been happier than she was at that moment.
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It all began with a conversation.
Five friends sat at a table in the food court at the local mall: Jerry, Amanda, Evie, Zane and Linda. They had all been friends since high school, and though it was almost eight years and several different experiences later, getting together once a month to go see movies was still something they made sure to schedule.
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I woke up to her scratching my back softly. I loved that feeling. "Are you awake?" she asked me.
"No," I moaned. My head was killing me.
We'd been out late the night before. Several glasses of wine with dinner and then a few more drinks with friends. My head was aching and I was tired but I could feel my spirit rising as she traced her nails across my back.
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Here's another story for you guys that's been bouncing around inside my head for a while. Hope you enjoy. All characters are over the age of eighteen.
Hi, my names Richard Williams, Rich to my friends. I live in southern California with my mom Stacy. My dad died when I was too young to remember. The accident that killed my dad, while tragic, was made less so by the size of the settlement his company paid my mom.
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So there I was again, hanging out in my favourite pub on a busy Saturday night, talking to my buddy Zack, half-focused on him, half-focused on finding a good-looking guy to take home and fuck into oblivion.
Yeah, I knew Zack wanted me, and the truth is that I wanted him, too, but neither one of us had ever acted on it. My rationale was: why ruin a perfectly good friendship just because a wet spot formed on my thong whenever I was around him?
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I was watching a movie the other day, with academy award level acting by the way, where a housewife fucks the plumber when he came by to "fix" the pipes. It reminded me of a role playing situation, I found myself in quite unexpectedly one night. It involves me, a certain man of whom I had a very active sex life with (two guesses for my fans), and
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"Character," Kristin said. "The most important part of any piece of fiction. If you start writing with only a plot in mind, you will struggle with your characters. However, if you start with your characters, they will create your plot for you."
The writing workshop was nearly full. Kristin Morris had had eleven books on the romantic bestseller list. Her current historical romance, "The Sands of Fortune," had been holding steady on the list for nearly eight weeks.
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