She wept, seeing Gallipoli chiselled into the cenotaph marble. No rose-tinted remembrances for those poppy fields. Sixty years hadn’t wearied one precious memory; amongst azaleas beside the billabong, they’d consummated love under the ancient red gum tree...
The sun was warm on her back, the scent of the poppies heady and strong. She inhaled and exhaled deeply, trying to commit the smell to her memory.The cock inside her was big and hard. The hands holding her hips strong and rough, the fingers calloused. She...
Gaia came across him in a garden of red poppies. He was typing on an anachronistic typewriter with books at his side. She was surprised when he looked up and actually saw her — few ever could. He didn't look away as she came up to him. Without a word, s...
A breeze in the dark field, the earthy sweetness of poppies the same after all these years. One glint of moonlight made her eyes oceans or vast ancient forests. When inside her, dark starfires, violent rainbows. No experience, just feral young need. Her...
The wind softly blowing onto the fields in tempo with the birds serenading from afar. A good time for an afternoon walk. A woman's faint moan like relishing a pleasurable dessert in contrast with the man's groan like he is in pain lightly blends with...
Troy crested the ridge, orange light from the twin suns illuminating weary features. He’d made it. Survived. The meadow stretched below him, prize as yet unseen on the central knoll. Negotiating boulder-strewn terrain he plunged into grass, shedding cloth...
"Titty Comp! Who's first?" Cara excitedly asks. "Oh! Oh! Oh! Me! Me! Meeeeee!" Mel exclaims frantically waving her hand in the air. "Jesus, Mel, settle down. You look like Horshack from 'Welcome Back Kotter'!" Cara responds, shaking her head. "She is just...
It's time to enter his first writing competition. The Airbook was open and the fingers poised. The trouble was that the story was about toys, and as a bloke he didn’t really have any experience with toys. Yes, he had watched some masturbation porn where g...
A little background about me, might at this stage me useful. I am Mark a newly divorced Londoner who is rediscovering life and starting out afresh. After years of deeply unsatisfying, resentful sex, my wife and I went our separate ways, she enjoyed the co...
On my sixteenth birthday, my parents gave me my best ever present, they allowed me out of dating jail. Not an unconditional release, they had what they called behavioural expectations. I’m pretty sure those guidelines didn’t envisage me finding myself, af...
"Bring out your dead!" The cries rang up from the street into my Brooklyn apartment, Now while that was humorous in a Python film, here in the real COVID-19 world it was horrifying. The USS Comfort, a naval hospital ship which now sat docked in the New Y...
“Hey, Natasha,” the editor of Sydney’s trashier daily paper called across the newsroom, a smirk on his overweight face, “Are you eco-curious?” For me, an out and proud young journalist, this kind of banter was a tedious occupational hazard. But one I play...
“We’ll get through this, Al.” Alice and her sister stared at a three-by-three grid of monitors pinned to the Aspen Orthopedics exam room wall. “If I can’t ski, I may as well be dead.” X-rays glowed on the displays showing various angles of the broken bone...
Words hurt, but a knife wounds with the sharper pain. He had admired the Russian Sami people for creating two hundred words to describe snow and ice. That eloquence used to impress; less so now her lexicon of inadequacy had grown with use and he was on th...
