Ty and Kylie had a nice kitchen. A nice house, truth be told, but the kitchen really was a standout: stainless steel everything, marble countertops, and an impressive cookware collection hanging on the rack over the island. Great view out the bay window overlooking the city, too. In other circumstances, I’d have been surprised that Alyssa didn’t pepper them with questions about their setup. To be fair, she was pretty dist...

I never expected to be a barfly, but it turned out to be a pretty good life choice. Six-year-old Sarah expected to be a Disney princess. Hell, I looked like one; Snow White, to be specific: black hair, pale complexion, rosy cheeks, ruby lips. My eyes are green, but outside of that? We could have been twins. Unfortunately, my prince turned out to be moonlighting in a whole library of other women's stories. So there I was,...

It was a letter that upended my world. Not one of the “Dear John” variety; that would have been less painful. Nor was it a “We Regret To Inform,” but the sense of loss, while not as acute, was even more all-encompassing. No, it wasn’t a letter of the paper-and-ink kind at all. Instead, it was one of the many small sigils that make up those and many other missives, the second of the twenty-six characters that comprise the...

“You’re going to get caught.” Her voice startled me. I was at the bar getting a drink, doing the usual pre-game for Friday night out with the girls. There were five of us that night; there had been a sixth, but she had already found what she was looking for before we even got to the club, a tall blonde stud that oozed sex appeal. We all knew we wouldn’t be seeing her again until Monday morning at the office. Turning sligh...

As a rule, I didn’t mess with married women. Well, the ones wearing their rings, that is, the ones that were obviously married and didn’t even try to hide it. If a woman is in a hotel bar with her ring on, one of four things is probably going on: she wants to have a drink in peace; she’s waiting for her husband, either to go somewhere else or as part of some weird sex game I don’t want to be involved in; she’s too dumb to...

Dee and I showered separately after she finished crying, then ate. Dinner was quiet; not an uncomfortable silence exactly, but a sort of mournful one. My wife knew now how much she’d hurt me, and I knew--or maybe just could finally admit to myself--that she’d have to keep on hurting me for a while. I hated it. I wanted it, in a strange way, but I hated it. Most of all, though, I loved her, and I knew that the only way for...

How much did I really need to dust? Ugh, I knew already. I needed to dust enough so that Dee would be happy. That’s what this was all for, after all. So that Dee would be happy. She was out shopping, buying a new outfit for our guest. No, for her guest. For my nemesis. Rod. An apt name for a bull with a nearly ten-inch cock. She’d been seeing Rod for a couple of months now. He was her first bull, the first guy that she’d...

Forty-seven-year-old Cheryl Busby was standing watching the sun setting over the sea; it was particularly beautiful this evening. Cheryl's house was only two roads back from the sea, and she could watch the sunset from her bedroom window, but on a nice evening like this one, she liked to be outside watching the sun slowly disappear out to sea. In some ways, it was sad for Cheryl, because it meant that she was coming to th...

"Cheer up Jim, it may never happen," smiled the mature woman to the equally mature man in the shop. "Oh, hello Sally, that is the trouble, it never does," replied Jim. "Sounds serious," smiled Sally, wondering if Jim was talking about what she thought he was. "Not really, it can't be helped," said Jim, thinking that Sally, whom he had known for years, was rather attractive. "Nothing I can help with then?" said Sally, more...