Demisexual Stories

The grease from the car and the rude, unflattering, fluorescent lights of the garage completely painted Hazel in a very unflattering light, in her dingy gray tank, with a plaid thong peeking out of the tops of low-cut jeans that were all tattered at her bare feet that stood on the concrete ground of the garage as she stood clinking along under the hood of the car. Her long braids were loosely tied back with a yellow banda...

Thu, May 26th, 2022: “Hi, Wes. Mark is not there.” “What? Where is he?” “He’s taking a day off.” “Really? He didn’t tell me.” “Well… he called in this morning.” Seriously?! “Right… Thanks.” . Is he ditching me? That’s seriously childish. I was the one with fingers up my ass. What’s he on about? I picked up my phone and called him. “Are you avoiding me?” I said instead of a greeting. “Look at Mister Self-centered. But, no,...