Contributor: R.L. Black - - I did it with my preacher. Who knew a holy man could be so smokin’ hot. My name is Eve. Yeah, I know— the garden, temptation, forbidden fruit. Maybe that’s all it was. The fact that I wasn’t supposed to have him made me want him even more. Or maybe it was his demeanor that turned me on. Humble and sweet. Pure and righteous. Perhaps I felt sorry for him. His wife was a bitter, dried up prune. She wore stuffy dresses, ugly glasses, kept her hair in a bun. No way he was gettin’ any from her. Could have been the whole taboo thing that sent shivers up my spine. The idea of gettin’ it on with a preacher, and one who was old enough to be my daddy. Hell, no. He was hot. That’s what it was. I wanted him for no other reason than that. What a mess I was. Sittin’ in the pew on Sundays, listenin’ to him preach,...

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Author: R.L. Black

Contributor: Levon Sandberg - - “The Cunning Linguist” or How I Met Your Mother The story so far: As you will recall, when my father, Alexander Stokely, died last year at the age of seventy-six I, Jeremiah, his only son, was responsible for disposing of his earthly effects. Clearing out the attic of the house he had shared with my late mother I found an old steamer trunk, and in the bottom of that trunk I came across a locked wooden box. The box was well crafted of high-quality, dark wood – ebony perhaps - with beautiful dovetailed joints. I assumed that it held something of great value and, unable to find the key and despite its beauty as an object in and of itself, I forced open the top, breaking the box in the process. Inside I found nothing of obvious commercial value, for it held three leather bound journals, a diary of my...

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Author: Levon Sandberg

Contributor: Paul Tristram - - “White Trash!”, they all shouted at me oh yeah, well that just suits me fine. You can shove your fucking morals all the choices that I make are mine. How can any of you be any better off when you are so bitter and unhappy? It must be jealousy you are showing because I’ve not let the system trap me? You are as useless as a broken glass you are as boring as the jobs you do. If they doubled up your stupid pay I still would not take it away from you. Your lovers they find fun elsewhere while you ferment within stupidity. life is a game that you are missing and you are too old to blame naivety. “White Trash!”, they all shouted at me as I passed them drinking my wine. While I just smiled back knowingly their girlfriends have all sucked mine. - - - Paul Tristram is a Welsh writer who has poems, short stories,...

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Author: Paul Tristram

Contributor: Phil Thomas Killman - - Her big bright eyes catch my attention from across the street. She's beautiful. Rays of the hot sun stream across her tan body. Every curve is formed with such sleek and sexy definition. I hurry inside and plant myself on my knees at the living room window. While I struggle to free my dick from my pants, I stare at her and imagine all the things I'd do to her. My eyes are fixated on her smooth body and I'm dreaming of how it would feel against me. Tugging on myself vigorously I think of having her from behind. As I orgasm, I form a seal around the tip of my cock with my free hand to catch the come. I wash my hands in the bathroom sink pressing the lemon scented soap into them deep, as if I am able to wash the shame of what I've just done down the drain along with my ejaculate. Not my shame, but societies'...

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Author: Phil Thomas Killman