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The Raunchy Redneck: MM Yaoi Manlust. Other editions. Enlarge cover. Published August 13th by The Eroticatorium. More Details ASIN.
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Yes she was. I called her to see. As I laid back against the wall of the toilet with my nylon-clad thighs spread wide and my erect cock jutting up lewdly from between them, the wooden door in front of me slowly opened to admit the guy from the stall next to mine. The classifieds in the local alternative paper were always a trip to read. When downtown, I would pick one up and read over the more liberal views of our fair city. I would also go through the adult services classifieds.
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With all the talk about cleaning up the city and making it more family friendly,. Where does one begin to tell the tale of one afternoon. I have always loved the feel of a pair of silk panties and the knowing that no one knows I am wearing them, even when standing next to them. With a name of Alex it is not something all men wear. I love and. She had long blonde hair, a deep voice, was very tall and was wearing a low cut blouse that showed off the cleavage of her ample breast.
I asked when she got off and if she had plans for the evening. It all began with a letter Charles received on Friday after being home ill for a week with an undiagnosed lower abdominal disturbance.
I had a nice chat with your wife Paula, the other day. We both agreed that you need a new direction in your life to help you stop playing this silly role-swapping. But this week Syd asked if he could choose and, naively, I said yes. Banging his hand on the table and laughing at me as I sink the last dregs of my pint, Syd starts to chant. May God strike me down on the way home to save me from tomorrow.
With a rock for a pillow, Jacob took up rest on the ground, studying the night sky above him. Oh, the stars! How brightly they shone. How magnificent heaven must be for it to illuminate even its borders with such beauty. As the world around him grew darker, he became warmer.
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Then warmer still, as though he were sitting by a fire at the peak of its intensity. The heat thickened the damp night air, making every breath he took feel like breathing underwater. For a terrifying moment, Jacob thought he would drown. He was blinded, unable to move, prone and vulnerable on the ground with nothing but his cloak to shield him from these unnatural elements.
Panic was seizing control of his heart but then something changed. This story is another continuation of my Demonised story. While the original part two, Waking the Fallen which is also a song title, funnily enough follows events down into Hell, this piece stays in the belly of the mountain with the Archangel Michael. In a cave, deep in the heart of a mountain.
Leaning against a wall of rock, an ethereal glow radiating from my very being. Watching a roiling mass of darkness fight and flail as light spreads from my feet to engulf it where it lies, helpless on the floor in front of me. Though it did not understand why, the cosmos had trembled the day the Creator fell into a silent contemplation regarding the fate of its most precious — most treacherous — creation. Some felt it like the coming of a storm, others like the death of a star.
When the decision was finally made, all of Heaven had become still. It had remained that way until the Morningstar struck the Earth, and then one by one, his sympathisers were cast out. This story is the second part to Demonised , a devilish tale of angels and demons. Cocking my head to the right in a tick-like jerk, I consider the chair in front of me. Constructed from bone — femurs for legs, a rib cage back, a seat of jagged skulls — stained by time and blood, and lashed together with intestines in some places, sinews in others.
Looking a little closer, I see that the knucklebone armrests bear the fingernail scrapes of utter boredom, and that the pelvis which cradles my head is scorched black by the heat of my untamed thoughts. Yes, my throne is now as it has ever been. Scuffing them against the floor, agitating the diaphanous carpet of forsaken souls until their moans rise to a crescendo then settle into a haunting hum.
This story started out as a Wicked Wednesday post. The prompt was hand-holding, which happens to fit nicely with one of my favourite ways to give the Fella a handjob. I combined what I had with an idea I had for Kink of the Week, et voila. A few weeks ago, my best friend Jace and I made a deal. See, we each have something we want but can no longer get it from the people who used to give it to us.
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Do one another a solid. Okay, sugar, park your ass on the sofa.
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Yeah, right there on the throw. The pink of your skirt looks good against that baby blue, right?
And damn, I love the way those white knee socks pop against the black leather down there. That blonde hair of yours is gonna pop against the black, too. Lean back a little, lemme see. Fluff your pigtails a bit. Yeah, just as I thought.