In eighteenth century English society it was even more difficult for a girl to advance above her station than it was for a young man. Without the proper connections and lineage it was almost impossible for even the most attractive of young girls to marry a man who could give her a life of comfort. Seeing no other way around this dilemma, some parents took the grave risk of sending their daughters to India, where the men who survived the climate and the competition were seeking wives as gorgeous as the silks and gems they carried home as spoils. One of these girls was named Fanny Chamberlain.
read more
I'd gone to the kitchen in Jay's apartment to get myself a sparkling water from the fridge—we couldn't drink what we'd really like to drink during the performance season—when his doorbell rang, and he let his landlord in. I just stayed out of sight in the kitchen, because I knew this was going to be unpleasant and I didn't want the landlord, who I'd heard was a real ass, to get the idea that I'd moved in with Jay after Dalton died. Which I hadn't, and I didn't think there was any chance Jay would let me.
read more
I had both the advantages and curses of being a rock star. I could afford to go anywhere I wanted on the spur of the moment or as the mood hit me, but if a mood hit me that would land me in the tabloids, I'd better be prepared to go to the ends of the earth. The mood had hit me to get the most exotic and total fuck that I could find by the most talented cocksman I could attract. I had been on open exhibition for months and could have had any woman I'd wanted during that time.
read more
Brooke asked if I would write this story. The theme is interracial lesbian domination. All the characters are real. All references to people and photographs are real. I've simply inserted myself into her world. The story ends at my last point of contact with Brooke. There may be more to come.
read more
"I'm sorry, what was that you just said, Mrs. Pettington?"
What a tiresome woman. I had just now been distracted from listening to her by the way she snapped her fingers at Kisula and then gave him a distasteful look when he refilled her coffee cup.
"I said, Mr. Woolston, that I hardly think we need worry about these rumblings from the tribal huts. England has held this protectorate in Tanzania since the war, and we will do so as long as the London cafés need their coffee."
read more
"Hello, you must be Shayne. I'm Mr. Caldwell's boy, Jerome. Come on in. I'll take your bag to your room. He's out beyond the great room, in the pool. Go on back."
With that welcome, I entered the world of Ted Caldwell, retired supposed master spy, the man I'd been sent to the New Jersey shore to interview over the weekend for Spy magazine.
read more
Another long overnight shift, Stacey thought. She hated to say the word, lest she jinx herself. Quiet. The ER was dead. Only two patients out of 35 beds. And being Triage Nurse, she hadn't had any activity for 4 hours. Sigh. Even the difficult crossword puzzle was done. Having recently gotten over the flu and a breakup with her ex, she was still a little weak and out of it, only just recently having her appetite return. Only a half hour left of her shift and she could go home. She started to dose off at her desk....
read more
It was winter, about 9PM, and I was in my living room watching football and eating ice cream when I heard the telltale sound of keys jingling and footsteps in the hall. I leaped to my feet as my heart rate spiked -- my sexy neighbor was home! I ran to my door to shove my eye into the peep hole.
read more
The flight had been a long one and he was exhausted. The trip had gone well, better than he had hoped, but a trip was never like being at home. He yearned for the feel of his own shower, his own bed, and his own surroundings. The plane began its descent and he felt the familiar tightening in his stomach as the pilot banked first left, then right, and finally leveled out for the final approach. As the wheels touched down, he instinctively reached for his cell phone and turned it on.
read more
This is a continuation of Ella's story. She is a real person (as is Gabrialla) and chapter 2 moves from fact to her fantasies. The story focuses on a dominant interracial lesbian theme. If this is not to your taste, thank you for stopping by but please pass on this and move onto a different story.
read more