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Occasionally my job takes me up and down the country for conferences, meetings and so on. When I am away I prefer to stay in rural B&Bs rather than the anonymous rooms of the hotel chains. It was on one such recent visit that I experienced service above and beyond the call. I arrived late the night before, having travelled down and attended the course. It was dark but a crystal clear early spring evening with a hint of frost dressing the trees as I looked out from my bedroom window. There were a few other cars in the drive as I surveyed the farmyard to the limits of the…

Boring Business Trip to Orlando Turns to Beautiful Canadian Adventure It’s a sunny and warm spring, Friday afternoon around one o’clock in the afternoon as I pulled in to the parking lot of a Daytona Beach hotel. As I pull myself out of the car, the 55-mile trip from Orlando seems much longer after 3 days of sitting in a boring business seminar. Since I was so close to the beach for the seminar, I decided at the last minute to make hotel reservations and take a couple of days to relax on the beach, admire the beautiful female scenery, and listening to the crashing yet soothing sounds of the…

“Look at my muscles,” she said. Jasper, sitting at the computer, had heard someone coming down the stairs. When he looked up, his screen only showed an innocent Wikipedia page. It was Susan, a good-looking 18-year-old friend of his younger sister. He knew she was spending the night, but was surprised she had come down to the basement, a long way from his sister’s room. He smiled when he saw she was wearing only boxers and a t-shirt. As she walked towards him, she straightened a leg, pointed her toe, and did a little ballerina step. Jason enjoyed the show. She looked like a prancing horse. Remembering the video he…

When the lights are off, there is no talking in the bed. If one were to speak to me, they would be met with either no response or a puzzled expression, the latter of which would be worse for it disrupts the mood. Instead, when we have sex, I would be able to tell what he was feeling by the vibrations that would transfer from his body to mine. My hand on his throat would tell me the depth of his groans, the more deeper the vibrations, the more he was enjoying himself. My legs around his would let me know if he is excited, be it the tension of…

It’s a Saturday night and I am waiting nervously for the doorbell to ring. I fidget and straighten my skirt, fiddle with my makeup, tap my fingers…I’m waiting for a blind date. A friend had called and told me about this great guy she had met earlier in the week. We spoke on the phone and chatted a lot on the Internet, doing some heavy flirting through it all. We had basic descriptions and that was about it. I had never been set up before, thus the nervousness. Looking at my watch, I see that he should soon be here. Then the doorbell: I start to get up, smoothing my…

Pete Marks followed the path as it twisted its way up the hillside; the right side of the path was boarded by a steep, weathered scree covered slope, while the left dropped steeply into a deep tree strewn gorge. The overhead sun burning in a clear blue sky failed to reach the gorge bottom, instead it painted the hillside and trees in a patchwork of greens and browns. The path turned sharp right and started to descend; Pete followed its winding course as it dropped into the gorge. From up ahead he could hear the distant roar of a waterfall; the sound grew closer as he entered the green canopy…

As has often been said, men in unexpected situations think with what’s between their legs, not their brains. As a woman, I am happy to report that this is true, at least a large percentage of the time, because it benefits me. Got one helluva story to share with you, ladies and gentlemen. I am Farah Hussein, a tall, curvy and lovely Somali-Canadian Muslim sister living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. I’m studying police foundations at Algonquin College, and I’m close to graduation. Oh, and I’ve got a new guy in my sights. The new guy in question is a tall, dark and handsome Haitian stud named Roger Duchene.…

Coming from a very small town, I was a little shy in my new home. Columbus Ohio isn’t a huge city, but it was allot bigger than I was used to. It was also a large college town. And of course the biggest plus, two hours away from the old home town. I have been living here and going to school since June. I have had different jobs to help pay the bills, but recently I started playing music with a few guys I had met through one of those jobs. I worked for a while as a mix-down engineer at Kingsmill Recording Studios. That gave me pretty much the…

A year ago, when Jacob Dorval moved to the City of Montreal, Quebec, to attend the University of Montreal, he felt sorely out of place. Born in the town of Quartier Morin, northern Haiti, Jacob came of age in a rather turbulent era. A decade after the Quake which devastated the City of Port-Au-Prince, Capital of Haiti, the island was still struggling. The Americans and the United Nations didn’t do diddly squat to help the Haitian people. In fact, they seemed hell-bent on playing watchdog and preventing real progress from being made. How Jacob despised these modern-day imperial overlords. The NGOs also prevented the Haitian people from taking care of…

Note: In stark contrast to “Good Soldiers Follow Orders,” I did a metric fuck ton of research for the express purpose of stretching the facts a bit. What is true though is that the Basedale nunnery did get in trouble for “gadding about” the countryside, and another nunnery in Lincolnshire was found to enjoy late night drinking parties with guests. I combined them a bit to create this devilishly blasphemous tale. Basedale nunnery, Yorkshire, England, 1312 Sister Abigail knelt at the foot of her bed, her hands desperately clasped together and shaking as she tried to ignore the sounds of revelry and sin that echoed through the halls. It was…