I sit ankles crossed comfortably in the armchair, perhaps a little over-warm, but I love this suit and it's not yet time to take it off. It's a three piece in a navy blue herringbone so dark that it's almost black. It fits me like armour, just so. No nips or slack folds, well-tailored. Snowy … Continue reading Felicity Pinned
This is a bit of fun dreamed up between myself and the notorious pink-haired part-time pornographer Helen Scott. Kinda. See, I challenged her to a duel, and she was like: "OK - 500 words? Tacos." So here is my entry. Please read both mine and H's (linky above, obvs) and like the one you like … Continue reading After this we’ll have Tacos
Ah, sweet Alice. So long gone now that I’m sure my memory of her, though vivid, is nothing but a mirage, a golden dream, now nothing like the real. Alice Rackham, fiercely bright and all knife-edged bangs and glasses, gingham and mischief. Top of the class in everything, and great at hockey, tennis, netball. Is … Continue reading Alice: Kids? Don’t do drugs.
Shorts and a baggy shirt flapping in his cycle-created breeze he coasts down the last yards of street to home. There's a thread of hopeful excitement ticking in his throat, a little rapid thread of pulse. He hopes she'll be pleased at this early return, this intrusion, his lust. It doesn't always work, surprise. He … Continue reading Lust and the Scrubber