"One Soul, Two Soul, Three...She'd Be The Greatest Writer Someday"
"I suppose I could try to warn him that the pussy he is about to bury into is a sharp glass trap into Hell, but who would listen to a typewriter anyways. I'm not even a word processor.""The girl on top...
"A devastating breakup in a poppy field"
In this poppy field we shared our first kiss and lick. The chanting of the children in the adjacent cornfield drowned out our mutual pleading. Months later we parted in the same field. I rationalized my tears as allergies. Another transparent...
"Dorothy gets horny on the way to OZ"
Dorothy and the Scarecrow were off to see the Wizard when they came to a poppy field and Dorothy grew sleepy. While the Tin Man and the Lion went off to find some help or some coffee, the Scarecrow decided...
“It’s wrong! She’ll know!” I plead. Because I’ll tell her.You know I can’t resist you. Before, you rejected my love.Now, here, you ambushed me.Your cunt—slick and hot from your premeditation—traps my cock—helplessly rigid from your wet panties smearing my lips....
"A family picnic proved to be more exciting than I could imagine."
Unbelievable how quickly a day can go to the shitter. Today Lucy suggested having a picnic with her parents. Wanting to make a good impression, I agreed, and pretty soon we were in a meadow surrounded by poppies. After lunch, Lucy's...
"She know what she wants"
She wears tiny pink panties and nothing more. A lusty grin on her pretty face tells me what she wants.I shed my clothes and pounce, pinning her body to the bed. After a kiss or two, I slither down and...
"My affairs during the Crazy Years"
I celebrated my first manuscript by fucking my first French Communist.It was France during the Crazy Years, the Années Folles. American writers surged into Paris. It was Prohibition in America; I arrived to enjoy the cafes and French culture after...
"A girl, a guy, some old tech."
"A typewriter? Who brings a fucking typewriter out into the middle of a field?And it's a Smith Corona. Probably infected. I'm staying away from you." His questioning tone had devolved into incoherent grumbling as he made to rise. But she was...
"What's with the typewriter?""You were complaining about writer's block; I thought it might inspire you.""It doesn't, but I don't care. As long as I am riding your cock and watching your face, you can bring whatever you want."Flowers, typewriters, the sun,...
They spread out amidst the flowers (Papaver rhoeas, he said). Waves of shimmering heat turned the blooms into a lush impasto, thick incarnadine whorls. High growths and grasses concealed them. Possessions sat by mute and offended, waiting for the attention they would...
