CHAPTER 1
Driving a little too fast Nina Black spotted the radar trap up ahead.
Too late.
She slowed her pickup to within the speed limit. The cop got out of his car.
Oh shoot. Another nail in her hide from her mom?
The cop tipped his hat back as he reached her open window and said, "Hi Nina.'
"Hi Jerry," she said in surprise. "How are Cindy and baby?"
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'Christmas is a time for togetherness and compassion. It's not a time to be on your own, not if you have a choice.' That was what my wife Julie had written in her letter to me, and I couldn't disagree; which made it even more of a kick in the guts that this Christmas she was going to be over 3,000 miles away, in fucking Afghanistan.
I didn't agree with British involvement in the Afghan conflict, and deep down I could tell Jules didn't either.
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Kenny Cho arrived at the Korean restaurant just as the other members of the group arrived. The group comprised of mainly gay Asian men of various ages and nationalities and some of their invited, non-Asian male friends/partners. Once a month the group would dine out at an ethnic restaurant of their choosing. Last month was Vietnamese.
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Chapter One
Pamela watched the pick-up truck pull into her drive and wiped her flour-covered hands on her apron; her hired hand was here. Her husband had passed away three years ago and she had milked their prize herd all by herself as well tended the farm's crops. For all her hard work she'd finally managed to make the last payment on the small farm and this year opted to hire a full-time summer employee.
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William Devlin made ready the umbrellas, the seating, and even metered the ambient light of the room in preparation for his new client. Ms. Kayden Summers she had requested a series of bust close ups of herself in a long black gown.
She had found his little off path studio via referral from a young lady that had sat for a series of graduation photos several years back.
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This story is meant to serve entertainment purposes only, it means no direspect towards Muslims or the religion of Islam. I had a crush on a girl, and it just happened that she was Muslim. Hope you enjoy the story.
*
"Oh my gosh, it's her again," I thought to myself.
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The name's Michael. I'm an Irish boy from nowhere in particular, and the bright-red ponytail I wear is more than enough proof of that. I dress well enough when I need to; my work wardrobe usually consists of black wingtips, tight-fitting black slacks that are a little loose around the knees to allow for bending, and a dark solid button-down. I'm a relatively fit guy; I bike to work every morning and jog in the evenings.
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You are indeed my favorite fantasy, you are the vision I have when my skin becomes electric and my fires within churn and swell. You make my chest heavy and my mouth water. The way you look when your in your element that occasional glance and grin in my direction. The things I want to do to you, the desires I have.
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Anna's parents came from Europe. Her father was a tall blond from Poland and her mother a red-haired beauty from Ireland. Yet poor Anna was stuck with the wrong branch of the DNA. She was six feet and then some in her socks. Her face was plain with a broad forehead, long jaw and beaked nose. Most of her height was in her legs. She wore men's jeans with a 30 inch waist and 36 inch inseam. Her hair was neither blond nor red but a sad mixture resulting in a rough brown. Her height served her well in obtaining a volleyball scholarship to college where she majored in business.
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I. BACKGROUND
Traci was a tall slender blonde who had been my Mom's roommate in college. They'd stayed in touch and I kinda knew her from her short visits. She was apparently rather wealthy and traveled a lot. I'd never understood exactly what she did but it was somehow related to the classical music and jazz business.
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