He craved touch. The feel of hot, supple skin sliding against skin. If he only closed his eyes he could feel it. The invisible rasp of tiny hairs bending as nerve endings lit up like a pinball machine on tilt, blood vessels singing as they pumped harder infusing a warming flush, it made him dizzy just to consider. Then again he felt the same way about waffles. He really did, though his friends laughed when he tried to explain. The feel of hot batter in his mouth, mixing and playing with the cold syrup and melting butter… it was too... Continue reading

"We'll name her Moses," Marla said, grinning. "We will do no such thing!" Dan replied. The basket sat on the doorstep, no note pinned to a blanket, nothing. Just a basket, with a prize inside. Marla's first name choice had, in fact, been "Cracker Jack." Dan gave her a negative on that. Or as he put it "Ixnay on hatyay." "You mean atthay, Dan," Marla put in. She smirked as she said it, not sure why she took such pleasure in knowing pig latin better than he did. "Hat yay is when I find a really primo fedora in a... Continue reading