Fiction (ish) Sex 

You Couldn’t Wait

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“I got a bad idea, how about we take a little bit of time away?” The Ariana Grande song playing in the background was pretty ironic considering the situation she’d found herself in. You’d just told her those words that make her weak at the knees and damp between the thighs: “I need you”, and she knew the feeling; she needed you too. That’s why she smiled when you half-whispered those words into her ear. It was barely audible above the loud noise of the music and hum-drum of the…

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True Tales 

Selfies

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Would you like to know how many selfies I’ve taken with you in mind as the receiver, but never had the balls to send? Too many to count at this point. Tens, definitely. Maybe even hundreds. Some of them are deleted before they even have the chance to see the light of day, but a few of them? I’m dying to send them to you. I’ve gotten close a couple of times, inserting the image into the message box before promptly deleting it and berating myself for being foolish. I’m…

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Opinions 

The Tweets I Didn’t Send 2019

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I recently delved into my drafts on Twitter for the first time in a very long time (like, forever) and found some absolute crackers that I thought I might share with you before I delete them. These were things I didn’t feel brave enough to say, changed my mind about saying, couldn’t say because of shitty signal (I’m assuming), and various other unknown reasons. I know it says 2019 in the title, but there’s a good chance that some of these have been sat there for a good few years. …

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True Tales 

I Need …

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I’m going to need you to be rough with me today. I need to be beaten. Beaten in a way that involves my ass and your hand, or a paddle, or one of your hard-backed books, or your belt, or anything else that you can think of that’ll have the same effect. Why? Because it’s been a crappy day. The type of day that can only be turned around with some horny heavy-handedness that leaves me just the right amount of bruised and battered. And I need to do more…

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The Work Colleague True Tales 

Act A: The Photograph

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“Do you remember that photo?”     Of course she did. She remembered it the very second the question started to fall from his mouth, just as she did every time he mentioned it. It’s the photo they don’t show anyone. The one they both love, but can’t post on social media. It’s a really insignificant photo when you just glance at it, a couple of friends at a table in a club, casually enjoying a drink. And it is just that: a casual, insignificant photo of two friends and…

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Fiction (ish) 

Picnicking

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“We’re quite far away from the footpath here, shall we sit?”  “Sounds good, I’m hungry!” And with that, he laid back flat against the soft, green grass. It had been a wonderful lunchtime, just the two of us strolling around town and enjoying the delights that the historic area had to offer. It was his idea to grab bits and pieces for a quick picnic, a suggestion I happily jumped on. I wondered if he’d guess why I suggested that particular picnic area, a 70-hectare heritage park that was wide-open…

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Bear 

A Little MORE Conversation, Please

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I tried to talk to Bear six times yesterday. He was at home all day because his work stuff is starting to go quiet. I spent most of the day sat at my desk, tap-tap-tapping away, earning that dollar (working from home), but I took a few minutes here and there to make a drink, say hello to him, make sure he was okay, so-on and so forth. We’ve had issues with the teen recently … and I mean serious issues. It’s been pretty hellish, to be honest, and there…

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Big Love True Tales 

A Blast of a Third Date

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“Get down on the ground!” I watched him fall to the floor, not quite knowing what to do. There was a lot of commotion around me, but the alarm hadn’t gone off yet. That was usually the first thing to alert us to the danger — loud, repetitive, and every bit as frightening as the event it was used to signify. “Get down on the ground!” he shouted at me again. I still had the strange, whistling sound we’d just heard in my head, replaying over and over and drowning…

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True Tales 

Two, Maybe Three Times

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“Babe, I’ll be back in a bit. Just getting dinner stuff. Love you!” As soon as I hear the door shut I spring into action, starting by turning the TV down so I can hear if he comes back sooner than expected. I then throw myself on the bed and reach into the bottom drawer of the cabinet, floating my hands over the array of toys staring back at me. Which one should I pick today? If he’s only getting dinner stuff, I’ve probably got around 15 minutes before he…

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Fiction (ish) 

When He Holds My Hair …

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I love it when he holds my hair. Well, when he touches it really. It can be a heavy-handed action, fistfuls of it grabbed during a heated moment of action. It can be a light-handed motion too, like when he lightly glides his fingers down the length of it when it’s freshly washed and super-soft. Perhaps it’s the fact that it can be both hot and heavy, and light and soft, all at the same time that makes it so special? I don’t know what it is, but I do…

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