I Don't Remember

She sighed as she leaned on the counter, her mind drifting as she absent-mindedly mixed her favorite drink. It had been a stressful week and all she wanted now was to relax, enjoy her weekend and her man. She'd been pushing hard to finish the project at work, and her constant worries about completing it to her exacting standards has been weighing her down. She knew she was a perfectionist, but that's the way she'd always been, and it has served her well so far, 2 promotions within 2 years and she was climbing the ladder fast. She had been pushing so hard, she did worry that he was feeling neglected, and that brought a frown to her delicate features. But that small frown disappeared as she realized he'd be walking in the door soon. The sound of his diesel truck pulling in the driveway a welcome respite from the weariness weighing on her. Catching a whiff of his scent, the sweat, aftershave and musk of a hard day's work pouring off of him stirs a longing in her as h

Many thanks to ChancesAre for helping me with wording and giving me some much-needed feedback. I cannot thank them enough, really. * I should've known this would become a problem for me later on. Maybe I did, and, much like any man when he is aroused, I just chose to ignore it. Having sex with a friend's mom is practically the textbook stupid porn plotline everyone makes fun of. You cannot be prepared for a conscious decision once an opportunity to do it actually presents itself. The thing about Karla was she didn't really like me. Actually, that's an understatement. She fucking despised me, and over the years I learned to despise her back. I'll spare you the bullshit about love and hate being close on the spectrum, because what we shared couldn't be further from love if we tried. I'll also spare my (let's be honest, former) friend from being named in these sordid little tales, for old times' sake. I do not know what Karla saw in me. I was not wide

"I don't want to hear about how the gardener you're hired is working out or anything else about the garden you're putting in down at Aquia Cove except in resale potential. I want to hear a date when you've moving up here to my apartment in Alexandria, Stacy." Jason didn't couch it in terms of an ultimatum, but that essentially was what it was—what it had been for the past three months that I'd continued with the renovations on the cottage overlooking the Aquia Cove off the Potomac River north of Fredericksburg, Virginia. I had continued despite Jason's increasingly expressed distaste for the place and my continuing with my plans to renovate and keep the house. This part of Jason Jamison, who was an aide to a deputy secretary in some administration or other in Washington, D.C., was coming out more and more by day and was as irritating as it was distressing. He was taking the same tack with my writing. I was a novelist—Romance novels. It paid the r

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The intimacy between the two women reaches new heights as they fill out their day. Amber visits her own apartment before returning to their headquarters at Madison's. When night comes, the voyeur's game draws close. The pair come out into the park close to midnight. Madison feels excited, her pussy tingling. As she undresses, Amber follows suit. "What are you doing?" Madison looks at Amber not understanding. The blonde smiles timidly, "I want to join you." "But," Madison is lost for words. Their nakedness exposed, they look about anxiously. Despite the wrongness of the whole situation, the ice in their guts, somehow, feels good. They hide their clothes and get on the main trail of the park. Where ever the camera man is, it's impossible to find him. The shame makes their hearts race as they break out into a jog. Both women being police officers, their athleticism shows. They round their first bend and see someone sitting on a bench. They look

Although each chapter is a story on its own, you might enjoy it more by starting with chapter 1 as there may be references to characters or events that happened in previous chapters. Chapter 13: Bethany in distress On Thursday evening around nine o'clock, I was watching an episode of 'Naked Attraction', a British, funny, and entertaining, dating show, whereby the participants go starkers. When the participant that wants a date is a man, he is shown six naked female candidates in colored pods, if it's a woman she gets six men. Then, piece by piece, their bodies are unveiled by a rising curtain, first showing the legs and pubes, then up, just over the boobs, and finally the faces. After each unveiling, the participant has to send one of the candidates home until in the end there are only two left. The participant then has to get naked as well, giving the final two candidates the same privilege; that's when the final choice for a date needs to be made. I have never i