He knew me well and that I was a good sailor, but he knew I was doing something dangerous. It wasn’t illegal, and there was nothing he could do to stop me. “You’re heading out alone?” he asked with a frown of disapproval. “I’ll be okay,” I said. I backed the boat out of its slip, shifted the transmission to forward, and headed out on diesel power. I turned the boat at buoy G13 and piloted into the channel with the marina,...

 A Tale of Two Boilers By Matthew Dyne I knew the new owner of Doc Wheeler’s house was shopping when my answering service called my cell. I’d noticed Billy’s and Serge’s, my competitors’, vans there last week. I parked in the driveway and walked up the path. I took a deep breath and stood tall and rang the bell. She took me by surprise. I had a hard time not looking down—I didn’t want her to know what I was thinking. I’m...

The young woman had finished bathing, dressing, and putting on her makeup, and she was ready to leave for work. She stepped out of her bathroom and was confronted by a tall man she had never seen. She was frightened and about to try to run when another man appeared, a man she knew and despised, her nearest neighbor who lived a half mile down the gravel, country road that wound its way within a thick forest. The man she di...

I come upon her, sleeping be,Immersed in dreams of revelry Her limbs are still, her eyelids twitch She might be beggar, queen, or witch I look high—look low—all around Her raiment’s nowhere to be found I did not seek to find her thus My blessings, are they fate or luck? Her breasts they rise as breaths she breathes Her form’s as pretty as you please Of all her gifts I would partake Yet she’s too precious, for to wake

I’m good looking enough but nothing special. I’d give myself a seven on a scale of one to ten, though I’ve been told I deserve better. I have short brown hair, I’m not comfortable dressing sexy or wearing a lot of makeup, and I’m not outgoing, which isn’t surprising, since I’m a software engineer. I’m kind of nerdy, but at least my figure is attractive. It gets me attention, but it’s not always the kind of attention I wan...

Once I got stopped for speeding and showed my boobs to a cop to get out of a ticket. He didn’t ask. I just unbuttoned my shirt as he was looking at my license. He seemed torn between arresting me and letting me strip, but he didn’t say anything, so I kept on going and unclipped my bra and took it off my breasts. He glanced around to see if anyone could see, and then he helped himself to a feel. He felt both breasts. It ma...

Brandi saw her aunt on the street, ran past with a breathless “Hi,” ran up the walk to her cousin’s house, and entered without a knock. She took the stairs quickly, burst into her cousin’s room, and found Candi lying on her back, in bed, her face flushed, her dress pulled up her legs, and her nipples impudently poking peaks in the soft cloth of her top.“What are you doing?” Brandi asked, knowing full well what Candi had b...

“Surprise!” Ginny yelled. Sally startled awake from her nap in the sunshine, outside the pool house of her multimillion dollar mansion. She looked up, but her gaze drifted downward. I must be having a wet-dream, she thought. “I brought two friends,” Ginny said. “I thought you might need cheering up.” The cheering up referred to Sally’s husband dying. It wasn’t a tragedy—the man had been in his nineties, but he had been go...

The quarry is a mystical place that really exists, where young people go to watch nymphs swim naked and bask on granite heated by the summer sun. I lived in northern Vermont with my brother. It was a very rural area. There weren’t many jobs—in the winter it was mostly working in the woods cutting trees for lumber or pulp, or on the railroad laying rails at thirty below with the wind whistling through the cuts. In the summ...

I met Kerry’s mom first, not long after the two women moved in across the street. Kerry had left for college and I helped her mother out a few times, mostly with heavy lifting. Mom was my age and a fine looking woman, but Kerry was something else—prime fantasy material. Kerry was no tomboy, but she could work hard, physically. It was summer, after her first year of college, and she’d worked up a sweat mowing her lawn. I w...