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The Artist

Chloe walked down the long hallway of the apartment building. She read the numbers on each of the doors trying to match them to the number on the piece of scrap paper she held in her shaky hand. 601......602.....603. She found it at last. Room 604. S
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A Love Letter

My dearest Jasna,

I wish for once I was brave enough to tell you what I was truly thinking, what I honestly feel inside in all my heart and soul and mind. I want to tell you so adly, but I can't. It's just too hard, and you would hate me.
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The Older The Better

The Older The Better
by Rick

This is a true story. All the names have been changed to protect all of us perverts involved. I was in my early twenties at the time and Dolores was in her mid fifties. This happened in the early 1970's. I had f
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