CHAPTER 1
At last new widower Charlie Creek was left sole occupant of his home. His two daughters had returned respectively to Rome and Los Angeles to their families after coming for the funeral and had cleared the house of most of Beth's things but had left the photographs of her undisturbed.
read more
It was her weekend at her father's, and was, as always, a nice vacation from her boring life at her mothers. Being at her dad's made her feel warm and happy, like she was a little girl again. She loved laying in the massive, ornate white canopy bed with its soft pink sheets and fluffy white comforters. This room was also her favorite backdrop for her adult amateur barely legal website.
read more
This story has only marginally incestuous themes although it involves a naked voyeuristic grandfather and his bi-sexual granddaughter in the same bed.
***
When 68 year old Edgar Whitney went over to put in his daughter's storm windows for the winter, he thought he was going just to do his daughter a favor. After Anne's husband took off for greener pastures a couple years ago and pretty much disappeared from his wife and daughter's lives save the occasional support check, Edgar had tried to help out around the house whenever he could.
read more
When I first moved to Chicago from the country I was pretty shy and nervous. It wasn't easy to make friends. I started dating a nice girl from work and had great fun for a few months. Then she went away to college and I found myself alone and miserable.
read more
Angela was a few years younger than me - well OK a good twenty. She joined our company straight from college and had other assets apart from being remarkably good at her job. She had long dark hair, perfect slim figure without being gaunt and pert young breasts that just looked perfect under anything she chose to wear. She'd been with us six months when her performance and potential were first recognised.
read more
At 28 years old I hadn't been with a man for three years. The first two years after my husband died, I couldn't bare the thought of another man touching me. I felt like it was cheating. Jake wasn't supposed to die in that car accident. He was supposed to grow old and gray with me. Jake was gone and I knew I had to move on, but acknowledging this didn't make things any easier. Still, at twenty-eight I wasn't willing to spend the rest of my life alone.
read more
So here it was, Thanksgiving Day, and I found myself in a strange man's bathroom, with my pantyhose pulled down around my knees, my dress hiked up over my hips, and that strange man's cock sliding in and out of my pussy. Well, in truth, he wasn't a complete stranger ... he was my boyfriend's father and I had met him two hours prior. But I'm getting ahead of myself, let me start at the beginning.
read more
Damn, I hate it when nothing goes right. It was one of those days. Nothing I did today seemed to work out the way I planned. I got up this early this morning so I could take a few extra minutes getting ready for work. While putting on my makeup, I discovered that I was out of my favorite eye shadow, the color that really makes my eyes stand out. Then I discovered that the blouse I had planned on wearing was wrinkled, so I had to quickly iron it. And then I ripped my pantyhose.
read more
Chapter One
Cassie and I had a date that Friday night and I had been looking forward to it all week. It had been several days since we had had much time together, which meant that we'd had no sex either. Since Cassie has an-eighteen-year-old daughter, sex is out of the question unless Amber is asleep or we have it at my apartment. And since the walls are thin, sometimes sex is still out of the question even if Cassie's daughter is asleep. We were going out for dinner; a movie and some time alone back at my place later.
read more
The old fisherman sat out at the end of the dilapidated dock in his lopsided deck chair. Though it was getting on toward evening the sun was nice and warm. He was fishing really light; a homemade bamboo pole and an old reel he maybe got before he had whiskers. Duck-taped it to the pole and wound it with ten pound test. Fishing flounder didn't take much gear. He had a card of hooks, a tin with some weights and floats and some leader. Minnows in an old milk bottle and a plastic paint bucket for his catch. He had caught some.
read more