I wake up cold, on my side. My hand fumbles forward, seeking Roman’s reliably warm chest. Instead, I smack into a freezing concrete wall. Kill me. I’m alone in my stupid-narrow dorm bed. I groan and shove my face under the pillow. “Tash’, turn off your fucking alarm.” But the blaring doesn’t stop. And right as I think my day can’t start any worse, Tasha, my roommate, yanks the covers clean off my back. “Put some clothes o...

Looking back, that trip to visit Mia at college still sticks with me, even after all this time. It was mid-October a couple of years ago, fog hanging low over the campus like it was trying to hide secrets. I'd driven up alone—Karen had some work thing keeping her home—and pulled into their cramped off-campus house just as the sun was dipping. Mia met me at the door with that hug that always makes me feel like she's still...

The priest, a withered man from Martinique whose voice still carries better than the old chapel’s speakers, finally tells us to sit down for the last time. All around us, the small parish slumps with relief. Nearly two hours of Christmas mass has worn them down. I look over at the four Millers, sitting in a well-behaved row. Predictably, my eyes land on Roman’s broad shoulders. He’s not doing anything special. Just breath...

As I raised my hand to knock on Professor O’Brien’s office door, the entrance was abruptly filled by Kenya Hamilton, the rush chairman of AKA. I recognized her from my intro psych class with O’Brien. Rumor had it that Kenya was weighing down the GPA of her sorority and was close to flunking out. She seemed to be in a hurry. I took a closer look as she pushed by. She was flattening her relaxed hair with her right hand and...

The small changing room smells like incense and freshly laundered towels. I take the robe from the hook and slide into it, luxuriating in the soft, cloud-like fabric against my skin. A satisfying tug cinches the belt around my waist. Jules meets me in the hallway with a caring smile, her black hair spilling neatly over her shoulders. She’s tall and elegant despite wearing the same cozy gown as I and a discreet beach bag....

One of the assignments I had given my students was to write a short paper about a historical figure they admired and explain why this person is important. Most of the responses were what I was expecting: presidents, sports figures, and grandparents. But one that caught my eye, and stirred my libido. It was an essay about Heidi Fleiss, also known as the Hollywood Madam, for the high-class prostitution operation she ran in...

It was mid-morning when, a few days later, Justine was finishing a calculus assignment. She had class in an hour. There was a knock at the door. Her roommate Margaret had cleared out early, and Justine was still in her nightwear, a Wile E. Coyote t-shirt over light blue cotton shorts. She looked in the peephole. It was Bryce. Jesus, it was Bryce! Something impelled Justine to yank the door open before she could have any o...

As the semester moved along, I tried to concentrate on teaching and not staring at the sensual firm bodies of the students in front of me. It was not an easy assignment. I was getting a lot of sex at home as my wife noticed I was especially horny on the days I taught. And I found the more I had sex, the more I thought about it. And the more I thought about it, the more I found myself staring at the tits and ass that sat e...

Justine waited in front of the elevator. She had an 11 AM appointment with Sandra Blackwell, a therapist. She held her arms across her stomach and kept her eyes on the floor. Her light-brown hair was held loosely in a ponytail, and she wore large blue jeans, flip-flops, and a gray hoodie. She wondered what she was doing here at all. The clinic nurse had recommended Blackwell. Justine had mentioned that she was having prob...