La Conciergerie Prison. Paris. July 28th, 1794. My beloved Eugenie, with my last louis d'or, I have paid a kindly old crone to get this letter to you in Lausanne. With some luck, it will arrive via her brother who, I'm told, works for a Swiss paper merchant. The odds are long, I know, but in my desperation, I know of no other way. I have languished here for weeks, denied everything save gruel and water to sustain me. But,...

The sound of the rain is plinking against the window pane – distracting me from my work. I’m frustrated today. Everything at work is coming to a head – leaving clients in a panic and coworkers scrambling (myself included). My recent move has me out of routine – the fixer-upper requiring a lot of effort before I can feel settled. The rain continues to plink against glass and my mind is drawn to imagining it against my skin...

Sometimes, I was your tyger, Pounding obscene, greedy pleas from your hot, clean mouth. Sometimes, I was your guilty lover, Stealing hard groans from your slick depths. Sometimes, I was your appointed tormentor, Imagining your tender cunt crying tears of ecstasy hours after I’d released you. Sometimes, we walked through the rain, Soaked free among the masses entombed by afearing umbrellas. Sometimes, I was your giddy sail...

A. The Prologue. 1. Simon's Backstory. I am driving back to my old home town, where I have been invited to a party. In fact it is a 'wake' for an old Irish friend, named Finnegan; I know he would have wanted us all to have a great party in his honour. I hadn't seen him for a very long time, so I was really on the edge of his circle of friends, but having been invited, I felt obliged to go. As I drove, I thought back to th...

I put my pearls and went out. Out into the street, the moon. Ready to be yours. Where will I find you? The first guy I look. When, where, who? I decide The here and the now! Did you like the pearls? Are they beautiful? Then pick them up. Feel. Beautiful and expensive. like me. Naked, in the street? Why bother? It's to look at me. It's to want me. touch me. and come. But only who I want. When, where, now. Feel. They're my...

He'll come up behind me at the sink, my hands in soapy water, or working at the counter, or when I'm brushing my teeth. He nuzzles my neck, kisses me, breathes, "I love you," into my ear, and I melt. I feel it, my body turning liquid, and I'm his, helpless. He'll touch my breasts, my bottom, press his hard heat against me, and my body responds, readying for him. He lifts my skirt or tugs my pants down, and I bend over eag...