She eagerly anticipated an urgent thrust inside her as her husband Travis often did when he wanted her but John did not, allowing his soft tongue to pulse and prod every pour of her aroused skin; she wanted him desperately as every anxious nerve in her body pleaded yes but John teased her on.

It was the champagne that she could blame it on but her wetness was a witness to the lie.

 Lynette’s fantasies always told her that a bed with silk sheets was cheating but the top…

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The wine thief is an extremely long handled tool with a silver cup on the end used by cellar masters for dipping into the large wine barrel below.



Like the wine thief my life has been a composite of that tool.



Ever reaching with an extended arm into the vast darkness of life, trying to search for that elusive sip of goodness that evades our vision.



With blind faith, to reach down into that dark quagmire of being in order to bring up a silver chalice full of… Continue