As I'm getting out of the shower I hear the front door close. "Is that you baby?" I yell from the bathroom, naked and drying myself with a towel.You poke your head in just as I'm covering up. "Hi, baby. Did you have a good day?" You ask me; I nod. "That's good. Do you want to go get some food?" I shake my head no, brushing my hair in the mirror. "Ok then, I'll just be in the living room." You close the door and let me continue to finish cleaning myself up.I walk into our bedroom in search of some clothes but see one of your T-shirts on the wood floor. I decide to wear that for the time being along with a pair of my fuzzy socks so my feet don't get cold.I skip into the living room to find you sitting on the couch, and bounce over. You look up from your phone and say, "Hi baby. Are you wearing my shirt?""Yes, is that ok?" I ask, sitting on your lap, straddling your body.Your shirt rides up my legs a bit and you look down to find that my lower half is bare. You look back up at me an
B belted the lyrics for the millionth time today. The Zac Brown Band had a way of getting him in the right state of mind for solo fishing on a Saturday. B’s fishing boat bounced through the warm intercostal waters. His cheeks windburned and rosy from hours out on the water. Few feelings compared to the afterglow of a good day of fishing, or a good fuck. His mind drifted to how he could combine the two. Find himself a mermaid? Did mermaids have pussy holes? Meh. He could fuck her in the mouth if she didn’t. The day’s catch sloshed in the boat’s well. Sea trout, flounder, and a couple of sheepshead would grill up real nice tonight. A little butter, steamed broccoli, roasted (and buttered!) red potatoes. Some of those suckers were still alive. They sporadically flapped their tails and flip-flopped against the well walls to let him know. Green markers on his right and red markers on his left guided him toward the Cape Haze Marina. He throttled down when he had the marina in sight. Was
I imagine myself, driving down the road in Blue, intent on getting away from the craziness of life and looking to escape to a place where no one can find me. In my rush to get away, I throw a tent, blanket and a few essentials in the back of the truck, but now realize all the things I forgot to grab. As I’m kicking myself for my lack of forethought, I see a vehicle in the distance pulled over on the side of the road with the hood up. Not having the patience to be a Good Samaritan today I intend to drive by, until I notice you standing in front of the vehicle in your torn jeans and tank top with a perplexed look on your face as you stared at the smoke coming from the engine. I immediately started to slow my truck as though I had begun hearing the song of a siren beckoning me off course toward what my gut said might be danger.After sitting in that blind all morning, my patience was starting to wear thin as it felt as though I had just wasted yet another Saturday morning. My mind drifte
All I could do was nod once. His lips were on mine before my head could go up to start the next nod.He kept one hand around the nape of my neck and the other he placed at the top of jeans. His fingers grappled with the button and zip as my legs naturally reacted and opened wider him.The scene was frenzied hunger now. I unbuttoned his jeans and he pulled mine to my ankles, letting the edges land in the lake water. The soft bank was cool and gritty on my ass. Before he could press his body weight into me and pin me down, though, I wanted him dirty.It was too much! Everything that made up this girl was drawing me into her! I hardly knew anything about her, and yet, I felt like I knew everything about her. She was life and beauty and adventure and grace and beautiful and carefree and I couldn’t keep my naturally sober mind from reeling out of control with thoughts of what this moment could be. I felt her attention on me as well and I knew there was no way I was walking out of these woo
This is the last fucking swimming pool I’m ever cleaning, B thought. This really is the last one. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel of his rust-dusted blue truck, waiting for his turn to drive off the ferry that shuttled him and his decaying pool gear from Seattle to Whidbey Island. He made this trip twice a month in the summer, and a couple of times throughout the winter for one person: WY — an entrepreneur with a $6 million waterfront estate on Smuggler’s Cove. In the two years he had serviced WY’s pool and jacuzzi, B had never met the man. Instead, he learned about him through headlines in The Seattle Times. WY was always selling, buying, or merging one company with another. When he wasn’t brokering deals in the U.S., he was traveling to Tokyo to indulge in snail facials and win back-alley street races. Details of his life flooded social media and the press faster than a gash in an above-ground vinyl swimming pool. WY was the kind of balanced businessman that B liked t
He flipped over the front of the book to see the title. It was Dostoyevsky’s The Idiot. “Well, that’s fitting,” B laughed and closed the book. He fell deeper into the recesses of the chair. He brought the glasses up to his face and thought, If this is what an estate man does, then let me be an estate man for just a couple of minutes while the whiskey does its work. B let Dostoyevksy’s words run through his mind like a new mantra — it’s life that matters… the process of discovering… the everlasting and perpetual process… — and slid the glasses onto his face. The moment the brass touched the bridge of his nose, B was paralyzed. Heavy. His head snapped back into the chair. A tingling warmth crept through the soles of his boots and into the soft palms of his feet, running up his calves and the back of his knees. It was simultaneously the most wonderful, yet excruciating sensation B had ever experienced. Still better than the rewarding release of a hard sneeze or a good cum.As the warm
When Matt Krump returned to his home in California from the Middle East after a year away, he was eighteen thousand dollars richer and one wife poorer. These things were no surprise as he had suspected his wife of being unfaithful to him since shortly after he'd shipped out, and the money was savings he had accumulated while he was away.Candice, his wife, had been careless and was now carrying another man's baby so she could not deny the infidelity, nor had she an alibi or excuse for her actions.Of course, he had been informed of the facts of her betrayal several weeks before his return, so his emotions had been calmed by the time he'd returned. Now, on his return, it was just a matter of cleaning up the mess.Matt had considered the matter carefully; he still had strong feelings for his wife and had decided to talk to her to see if they might work things out. On his return, his hopes had risen when she met him at the airport but were quickly dashed when she made no effort to kiss h
I vaguely sensed the mattress heave beneath me from my almost unconscious sleep. I forced my eyes open long enough to glance at the digital clock glowing red in the darkness from the nightstand. It was a little before six. It was unusual for him to get up this late, even if it was Saturday. I rolled to the cool middle of the bed and went back to sleep, hugging a pillow fresh with his scent.Sleep returned immediately, and when I woke, I was filled with a happy, peaceful feeling that most assuredly had come from a dream I could not remember. I opened my eyes, one at a time, and felt the sun warming the leg that was curled outside the single sheet covering me as I gazed through the shade-less window at another brilliant sunny summer day.I had been sleeping naked since our honeymoon almost twenty years ago. Although uncomfortable initially, I loved it now and never felt rested if I slept any other way. Of course, there were those surprising sexual benefits I was often the recipient of d