Untitled Masterpiece #6: Pacts (Part Two)
Posted on: April 21, 2008Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen
UNTITLED MASTERPIECE Part One: BODIES PACTS (Part Two) Ian dressed and put away the dishes that Tippy had cleaned and Reece had put on the kitchen counter. After everything was where he wanted it to be, he hopped in his car and drove to the convenience store at the end of the street and bought a carton of cigarettes. Damn but they were expensive. He thought he should give it up. On the drive home, he wondered where the liquor store was that was close enough to make Crystal panic and run back across the street in mid sex. As he rounded the street into the cul-de-sac, his headlights flashed on two figures; one was Jesse and the other was Tommy sitting on the porch of Tommy’s house. He wondered if they would do a repeat of what they did by his pool. He got a little hard thinking about it as he waved and pulled into his driveway. He had barely entered the house, just enough time to flip on the lights, when his doorbell rang. He thought it might be Jesse, looking for an excuse to come by. He admitted he was a little horny, but he didn’t want to deal with a barely 20 year old trying to get in his pants. He looked out the peephole before he opened the door. He was surprised to say the least. As he opened his front door he expressed ...
Get The Full Story At Sticky Pen
On His Own, Part 05
Posted on: April 20, 2008Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen
Randy got back to Rod’s place about three that afternoon. He had picked up his few belongings from his stepfather’s place and left a note saying he had a job and a place to live and wouldn’t be back, not that Sam would care. Rod gave him a hand carrying stuff in – two loads and it was done! “Pierre got here while you were gone…you’ve gotta meet him – he’s a riot! He can’t speak English worth a hoot, but he sure ‘communicates’ well!” Randy had a mental picture of some big, fat, smelly slob of a chef – and frankly, wasn’t really too interested in meeting him. “Yeah, I guess…!” “I’m serious – you’re really gonna enjoy meeting him, and I know he’s gonna take a liking to you!” “Just what I need – some French toad who really likes me!” Randy thought… “So, where is he?” “In the kitchen, getting something put together for tonight, tomorrow and Monday…he’s only here Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday afternoons. Are you wearing a strap under those 501s?” “Yeah…why?” “Drop the jeans…put on your armbands…and I’ll take you down to meet him!” “Whatever you say…you really sure I need to meet this guy?” “He’s part of my house staff – part-time, but yeah…he’ll be working for you since you’re my PA, so you better get to know him a little.” “OK – if you insist!” Rod was wearing just his usual harness and sandals…Randy the three ...
Get The Full Story At Sticky Pen
On His Own, Part 07
Posted on: April 19, 2008Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen
Randy was sound asleep at 5:45, on his side, knee up when Rod slipped into his room, lifted the light blanket and crawled into bed beside him. He stirred slightly as Rod fingered his crack, slid his hand between his legs and began to gently fondle his balls. His morning wood flexed in response to Rod’s touch, which added to the normal morning stimulation experienced by eighteen year old men. His nads slipped out of Rod’s fingers as he threw off the covers, rolled on his back and stretched. He cock was rock hard – aimed directly at his navel. He flexed it a couple times as he stretched. “Hey…mornin’ man – how long you been here? What time is it anyway?” “Quarter to six…I just came in…had to make sure ‘my man’ had a good night’s sleep and was up and ready for the new week…and I can see you’re definitely ‘up!’ You doin’ ok?” Rod grasped Randy’s rigid pole and squeezed several times, relishing the feel of Randy’s “attempted” flex, which his grasp prohibited. Randy put his hands behind his head and closed his eyes, making no move to push Rod’s hand away. “I’m doin’ great, man…your hand on my dick feels so good!” “You like to get off in the morning?” “Every morning…!” “You need to take a leak first?” “I can wait…” Rod began to squeeze and release Randy’s hot member rhythmically. His breathing became ...
Get The Full Story At Sticky Pen
On His Own, Part 06
Posted on: April 18, 2008Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen
About three Sunday afternoon, Rod was wrapped around Randy on the sofa as they had been the previous day. They were watching a wrestling video…a kind that Randy never knew existed, much less had ever seen before. It was a “rip ’n strip” – wrestlers beginning the match with shorts, tanks and jocks on…stripping each other in the early rounds, then going for a “winner take all” finish as they struggled for the pin…and for the “prize,” which amounted to the winner doing or having done anything he wished done by the loser. Randy had a raging rod on, and Rod was toying with Randy’s balls as they watched, tugging and pulling on them to make his young ’teen cock bob and flex. “Do we do that kind of shit when we wrestle?” “Not really…we eliminate the first round – go right to the naked part…why destroy good shorts and a tank?” “Yeah – I suppose you’re right…it’s just that – whew, I don’t know how long I’d last before I blew my load…” “We’re gonna find that out Friday night, now – aren’t we?” “Yeah, I guess – you serious about me wrestling this Zeb guy?” “Yeah, man…you are two of the hottest studs I’ve met in a long time…and the sight of the two of you rolling around naked in a ‘ring’ match – hot, hot, hot!” As Rod was speaking a car drove in – ...
Get The Full Story At Sticky Pen
Black Cock Virgin
Posted on: April 02, 2008 |
 |
| MovieClip1 MovieClip2 JOIN BLACK COCK VIRGIN FOR ONLY $1 MovieClip3 MovieClip4 Continue To Main Page Warning: This site contains sexually explicit material and is intended for adults only! If you are offended by, or if you cannot legally view this material please leave now! 18 U.S.C. 2257 Record Keeping Requirements Compliance Statement Customer Support Webmaster | |
Deal Closer, Part 1
Posted on: March 27, 2008Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen
As we strapped ourselves in across from each other, knee to knee, in the sleek corporate jet, I was wondering why CJ had picked me to fly out to the coast to try to close this business deal. I was pretty new to the company and nowhere near to having the seniority to be included on this trip. But I wasn’t complaining. A week in California and time to get to know the vice president of sales better was enough reason for me not to ask any questions. I was determined to get ahead in this business, no matter what it would take. Sitting so close to CJ was a real bonus. I had followed his short and notable major-league football career as a running back right up until he popped that knee and decided he didn’t want to be a cripple for life. Retirement from the game hadn’t meant that he had gone to pot, though. He was keeping real good care of himself, and although his shoulders and bulging biceps overfilled that seat in front of me, he tapered down into the seat just fine. We hadn’t been up in the air for more than fifteen minutes, though, before CJ snapped his seat belt and leaned forward and gave me a very good idea why I was along for this trip. “You understand that this deal is very, very important to us, Craig, don’t you?” “Yes, sir, I sure do,” I responded in earnest. “Just call me CJ,” he ...
Get The Full Story At Sticky Pen
Dorm Encounters: A Close Shave
Posted on: March 26, 2008Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen
I've always had a fascination with swimmers. Male swimmers, that is. Their sleek refined muscular bodies melt my heart and raise my cock every time I see one. Every time. There were two swimmers on my hall, and they were roommates. Terry and Peter lived about ten doors down the hall from me, and as they were always practicing, I rarely saw them at all. One night, though, I was startled from my studies (rare occurrence, people!) to a knock on the door. In strolled Terry and Peter, dressed in warmups. Their hair was still wet, and I guessed from the early evening hour that they were just coming in from practice. I looked up from my desk and said, "What can I do for you, fellows?" They stood there awkwardly for a few seconds and then Terry spoke, somewhat shyly. "Look, Andrew. We need some advice. Tomorrow's our biggest meet of the season and Coach told us all to go home and shave our arms and legs so we can be sleek in the water tomorrow. We wanted to know if you knew any secrets or something...." "Well," I replied, warming to the subject suddenly, "I've never shaved anything but my face, but I used to watch my Mom as a kid when she shaved her legs and stuff. What sort of advice did you have in mind?" Peter took up the conversation. "Actually, we think we can do it, but we don't want all the other guys laughing at ...
Get The Full Story At Sticky Pen
Lust in Space
Posted on: March 25, 2008Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen
The space freighter Serene Dawn had taken off for the planet Zeron 5, a journey that would take nearly one earth year to complete. Steve the skipper and Tony the navigator put the craft into warp drive, set the automatic control system and had started to relax. They took off their spacesuits and were just wearing tee shirts and little shorts. There was, however, an essential difference between the two crew members, Steve was human and Tony was an android. Androids looked exactly like humans, had human emotions and needs, the only difference was that they couldn't reproduce. For this reason amongst others, many male androids who worked closely with male humans developed feelings for the guys they worked with. The prospect of living at close quarters with Steve excited Tony from the moment that they met. Both had rugged good looks and superb bodies, and when Tony saw his skipper taking a shower just before the flight started, his circuits went into overdrive. He was determined to talk Steve into bed before the trip was out, and started sounding him out at the first opportunity. "Steve, have you ever had sex with a guy?" "No Tony, I'm not gay." " Well you don't have to be gay. I mean a lot of guys in prison get fucked, that doesn't mean their gay, just realistic. They know that there is no chance of any women, so they just make they best of it. We are stuck here together for the duration ...
Get The Full Story At Sticky Pen
A Night Alone In The Lab - Chapter 1
Posted on: March 24, 2008Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen
This is a purely fictional story and contains sexual material occurring between two men. If such material offends you, or it is against the law to view such material in your area, please leave now. Further, this story does not imply knowledge of the true sexuality of the actors or their private lives. Any resemblance to real events or the plot of CSI: Crime Scene Investigation is purely coincidental. CSI: Crime Scene Investigation is copyrighted by its producers and/or CBS Broadcasting, Inc.A Night Alone In the LabFeaturing Nick Stokes (as portrayed by George Eads) and Greg Sanders (as portrayed by Eric Szmanda) on the hit show CSI: Crime Scene Investigation.Chapter One - What About The Party?Greg walked through the empty halls of the Las Vegas Crime Lab en route to the morgue. He was decked out in his newest pair of tight fitting jeans and his hip leather jacket. Everyone else from the graveyard shift was already at the party celebrating Doc Robbins’ birthday. Greg wanted to make his entrance fashionably late. Even Grissom was there to celebrate, rather than sitting in his office playing with his insect collection.As he turned the corner past Grissom’s office he could begin to hear the revelry and music emanating from the morgue. A small movement in his peripheral vision drew his attention in another direction. Further down the hall in the ballistics lab he saw Nick putting on a set of head phones, still dressed in a standard issue soft blue lab coat. As ...
Get The Full Story At Sticky Pen
Dorm Encounters: Toys for Boys
Posted on: March 23, 2008Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen
One night, not terribly long ago, several of my residents had come to visit and play some board games to pass the time. We began with Trivial Pursuit and having finished that, I pulled out my X-rated version of the game. The four of us, myself, Tim, Kevin and Matt, had just begun play when a question about rubber toys came up. After a somewhat lengthy debate about what the game meant, two of the guys admitted that they had never seen a vibrator or fake cock or other toys in real life. I was quick to say that I had several toys they could look at if it would give them a better idea of what I was talking about. They all quickly agreed that they were interested in playing "show and tell." I got up from the table and went to my desk. Opening my bottom filing cabinet drawer, I pulled out several shoeboxes and placed them on the table, moving the game board out of the way. I opened the lids of the three boxes and watched the guys pore over the contents. I suggested that we dump them out and examine them further, and met with no hesitation. So I did. Soon, covering the table was a vast collection of every conceivable sex toy available on the market. (I am in the habit of buying everything and trying them out). The guys were hesitant to touch until I told them that all of them were clean, and ...
Get The Full Story At Sticky Pen
A Noble Roman
Posted on: March 22, 2008Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen
A NOBLE ROMAN (…dedicated to the men and women who wear the uniform of the United States Armed Forces, and who daily risk their lives all over the world to keep We The People free, so that we can be who and what we are and live our lives as we see fit…) I had taken a wrong turn in the ancient ruins at Bath, England, and I was lost, and separated from my tour group. I was down in the lowest part of the structure, by the pools, and I had been looking at some of the ancient Roman relics on display there. I was so fascinated that I did not notice that the tour group had moved on. I was entranced by the idea of seeing relics of peoples’ lives from literally thousands of years ago – people who were, essentially, just like me – who tried to live their lives as best they could, and who had their share of triumphs and successes, joys and tragedies, as we all have. And now, long after they had returned to the dust from whence we all come, I can view (and sometimes, surreptitiously touch) the stone doorframes of their houses, the marble couches on which they reclined to dine, and the monuments which their bereaved family and friends set up to mark their passing. The ...
Get The Full Story At Sticky Pen
On His Own, Part 2
Posted on: March 21, 2008Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen
Friday was a beautifully warm, “Indian Summer” early October day. Randy rolled down the windows and cranked up the music as he headed for Rod’s house in the country. He was feeling great – like a man about to be set free from prison for a crime he didn’t commit. He was wearing a tight fitting tank (thought he’d show Mr. Cox a little more skin on his second interview,) his 501s and sandals. The year with his stepfather since his mother died had been miserable…and now – he was almost out of there! Rod – Mr. Cox – told him to come by at six. It was 5:45…a little early, but he was so eager that he couldn’t help himself. He pulled up to the security gate and pressed the call button next to the keypad. “Mr. Cox…this is Randy…a little early, I know…but…”“Somehow I figured you might show a little early – I’m ready…c’mon in – park behind my Lexus.” The gate opened and he drove up the long, winding drive to a large, rambling ranch house…with a huge barn and stable complex behind it. He parked and went up to the front door. Rod opened it before he had a chance to ring the bell. Randy was a little shocked – pleasantly so – at Rod’s dress. He was shirtless – wearing a leather harness…straps over his muscular shoulders attached to a silver ring just below his big nippled pecs, with another strap running down his stomach and ...
Get The Full Story At Sticky Pen
Ravenswood: Two
Posted on: March 20, 2008Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen
Ravenswood: TWO by Dwayne 1. PRIMUS "Have I been a naughty boy, officer?" From beneath the bright glare of the light in the interrogation room, the humpy blonde in the dark suit and an open-at-the-collar clean, white shirt gave him the full benefit of a smirk both playful and openly challenging. "Is that why I'm here?" He was the one who had this guy brought in for questioning. He was the one in charge. He was practically double the size of this pretty boy twink. So why did Patrick Cavanaugh feel like he was the prey? Maybe it was because this guy was a little too good looking. And maybe it's been some time since he's had a chance to mess around with somebody this hot. And maybe he should get on with this before he raped this guy's cute, tight little butt right here, right now. "It's detective. Detective Cavanaugh," he admonished as he sat down across the table from the suspect and placed a file folder in front of him. "Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Mondejar. You're here at our request to answer some questions regarding the burglary of the Winston ruby necklace." "Please, nobody calls me Mr. Mondejar, call me Joaquin," the young man said smoothly before amending, "On second thought, call me Jack. Nobody calls me Joaquin either." "Very well," he began, "A week before the theft Jack, you were seen on numerous occasions, casing the Winston house." "Casing?" the blonde chortled. "Really detective, aren't you ...
Get The Full Story At Sticky Pen
Dorm Encounters: A Midsummer Night's Drive
Posted on: March 19, 2008Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen
Summer quarter seems to come and go so fast at this school that I hardly have time to catch my breath as it happens around me. Our school has a short quarter with extra long classes since they use the campus for other activities during the summer as well. As such, just when you are getting comfortable in a class, it's time for midterms and then finals come right behind them. Get the drift? At any rate, we were in the middle of a quarter such as the one I'm talking about. The dorm was in the throes of a wild midsummer party and the noise was reaching levels I could no longer tolerate. It being a Friday night, however, there was not much I could do about it since we had no noise restrictions on the weekends. I was sitting in my room trying to concentrate on my French midterm and was having no luck. My door and windows were closed and despite the air conditioning, I was feeling stifled beyond hope. I roamed around my room restlessly, searching for something, anything to take my mind off of what was going on around me. Just when I thought I would lose my mind, the phone rang. I went to answer it and was pleased at who was at the other end of the line. "Hello?" I said. "Hi, Andrew. This is Jason." "Jason!" I exclaimed. "How are you? Is your dorm as wild as mine, man?" "Wilder. I am about ...
Get The Full Story At Sticky Pen
The Three-Day Pass Chapter 01
Posted on: March 18, 2008Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen
This is a work of fiction, and as such the characters are not bound by the usual dictates of modern society. Unsafe sexual practices can be undertaken with impunity only in the world of fantasy. In reality, it is your obligation and your right to play safely, sanely and healthily. I hope you enjoy my work, and if you have any comments, or ideas that may inspire new work, please feel free to contact me at Joystick56@hotmail.com - all emails will be answered to the best of my ability. I would like to acknowledge the assistance I received for this story from Kai. Without him this work would have remained in my head and would not have been put onto paper. The errors are mine and mine alone.The Three Day Pass Chapter 1
By JoyStick There he sat, Private Joseph Benson, on the bus, looking out a grimy window at the skyline of New York City. God, except for seeing it on the TV or in the movies, he had never seen a sight like that before. He was a real country bumpkin, a hick from a small town in upper New York State. His blue eyes were wide in amazement and his heart pounded with excitement; he was looking forward to this new adventure. Even if the skies were overcast and it looked like it might rain, nothing, but absolutely nothing, could or would dampen his joy at having finally made it to the "Big Apple." Joseph had finally gotten ...
Get The Full Story At Sticky Pen
The Gym At River-Head Jail.
Posted on: March 17, 2008Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen
The Gym At River-head. It's been just under a month since I've been in jail I've been moved around 3 times since my first day. In the gym at River-head my bunk mate next to me was this guy named Ozzy. He was Latino, possibly Puerto Rican. I used to take short glimpses at him when he walked around with his tank top on. I found him very attractive. I never looked long enough for it to be noticed. At night when he was asleep, he slept shirtless and I would have more of an opportunity to stare. I would look at his chest, his nipples, and my dick would get hard immediately. I would imagine resting my head on his chest as we lay together. I would imagine him not being gay, but loving to have his dick sucked. He would grab my head and force me down to where his dick was huge and hard. With one hand he would pull the front of his underpants down over his very straight hard dick while he controlled my head and mouth towards it. He would silently tell me to open my mouth. I would resist a little at the start, but only to behave as if I really didn't want this. Before I knew it, he would be controlling my mouth up and down on his full length. I would feel it pushing against the back of my throat. As I would start to gag I would try to pull ...
Get The Full Story At Sticky Pen
The Clothes Horse
Posted on: March 15, 2008Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen
THE CLOTHES HORSE (This is dedicated to why_not_tonight, who sent me an e-mail asking me to write about “…a 20-something who goes into a clothing store…” or something like that. I told him I was working on another story, which I am, but that I would get to his request as soon as I could. After receiving his e-mail late at night, I closed down my computer and went to bed and lay there tossing and sleepless all night because of this story’s characters, who came out of the mists of my mind saying “Write me or else!” I went to work the next morning exhausted, dragged through the day, and am only writing now because I need some sleep. I hope this is satisfactory, why_not_tonight, so that these two will leave me the hell alone! – BardOhio) I walked into the downtown mall looking for something special to wear to the frat party this weekend. I had no idea what to look for, because I am not a fashion plate, but my frat brothers were tired of my thrown-together look and they had made it absolutely clear that I would be severely punished if I showed up at this special party in my usual dowdy, bedraggled threads. Just how they could – and have – punished me in my two years in the frat house is another story – in fact several stories – for another time… I am not typical Greek frat-boy material, which was also made clear to ...
Get The Full Story At Sticky Pen
Hunger
Posted on: March 14, 2008Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen
One thousand and I didn't look a day over twenty-five. No wrinkles, no gray hairs. Just a few scars from a life long-passed. They were faded reminders of battles fought and won. Well, most of them had been won. The last? It was what put me here, on the road to eternal life. And eternal loneliness. In a thousand years, I've had countless lovers: peasants, nobles, stableboys, whores, even two kings. But none of them filled the void within me. Something was always missing, something vital that I couldn't quite put my finger on. By the year 2005, I had all but given up. Sitting in a dark windowseat, of an even darker house, I was contemplating suicide. My home was quiet enough for such introspection. There's a distinct advantage to people believing your home is haunted; an even bigger advantage when the city officials are too terrified to tear it down. Needing to feed only once a month left me plenty of time to think. And to play. My amusement of choice came in the form of fucking with the kids, the ones who dared each other to come close enough to look into the front bay window of the rotting, haunted Magnolia House. A fleeting glimpse of...something...would send them off. I could hear their screams two blocks away, and many times, I laughed until I hurt. The first time I realized I wasn't alone, I didn't know what to think. I felt the pull--an irresistible need to find out ...
Get The Full Story At Sticky Pen
Horny Thug Sucks Cock Gangsta Style
Posted on: March 13, 2008Horny thugs sucking cock gangsta style!!! Damn these fuckas are hot!! Holla!
Warm Welcome
Posted on: March 13, 2008Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen
Slender, with curly auburn hair and fair smooth skin, the goatherd stretched and yawned beneath the shade of the tree. As Thane rode across the stone bridge marking the entrance to the kingdom of Aquillus, his first sight was of the fabulous white walled city that served as the nation’s capitol. His second sight was of the handsome lad dozing while his herd munched idly on the grass. Thane’s sharp blue eyes looked him over. The goatherd was in his early twenties he judged. Lean and supple from a Spartan life carved out on the land. Thane himself was a virtual giant compared to the stripling. Six foot with a hard muscled torso, the warrior’s thick hair hung down to his strong shoulders and was the same pale blonde of his people, the wildmen of the Northern Tundra. His face was angular and coldly handsome with rich almost pouting lips and a sharp aquiline nose. His eyes glittered like the icy waters of his homeland. Years on the road had bronzed his skin and his torso was laid bare to the elements. His broadsword hung on his back and he wore dark breeches and tough leather boots. A wolfish smile crossed his lips. After six months hard slog alone in the Barren Wastes the goatherd was a welcome sight indeed.The first the lad knew that he was not alone was the dark shadow that passed over him. He opened his hazel ...
Get The Full Story At Sticky Pen
On His Own, Part 01
Posted on: March 12, 2008Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen
Randy had had it…living with his stepfather, Sam – a surly, burly, pompous oaf who had never given a rat’s ass about him…and who cared even less now that his Mom was gone. When she died of cancer last year the bastard made it pretty clear that he wanted Randy out of his life as soon as possible…“you’re not my blood, you’re probably a Fag anyway – so the sooner you’re gone, the better!” He was now almost eighteen – the age he could legally be on his own in Colorado. He had worked at the hardware after school and on weekends since he was sixteen…saved as much as he could…bought an old Honda...now figured that if he just had a place to crash he could pretty much make it. In any case, he determined to be gone on his birthday in three weeks…even if he had to sleep in his car! As to his being a Fag…he was pretty sure when he was thirteen…was positive by the time he turned sixteen. The only other person who had any idea was his friend, Ned. Both had been on the football team…Ned was a Senior - first string, Randy a Sophomore - second string, but “on the team” when they “discovered” each other by accident one afternoon after practice a couple years ago when Randy caught Ned jackin’ off in the locker room. He was just out of the shower…on the bench, back against the ...
Get The Full Story At Sticky Pen
Dorm Encounters: Caught in the Act
Posted on: March 11, 2008Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen
Steve and I were on the bed, covered in spunk, gasping for breath. We both turned towards the door finding three of our fellow residents standing there, fisting their huge pricks. I was the first to speak. "Holy shit, guys! Don't waste that precious cum! Come over here and let me and Steve work those loads out!" John, Sam and Scott looked at each other sheepishly. John became the spokesman for the group saying, "Well, God-- we're not homos like you two lovebirds. We just got hot watching you get off." I replied, somewhat coyly, "Well, sure. But you seemed to really enjoy it judging from what's all over my floor, man!" With that, all three shucked what remained of their clothing, closed the door, and sat next to each other on the bed. Steve looked at me, I looked at him, and we both dove into two laps. I sucked John's root to the base and he grabbed my head and began pulling my ears and hair. I glanced sideways and saw that Steve was giving admirable service to Sam who had thrown his head back and was moaning in pleasure. Scott appeared to be content to watch as he had his fist wrapped around his throbbing cock, precum leaking from the slit like water from a leaky faucet. The sucking got intense. Steve and I were milking these two magnificent cocks for all they were worth, bouncing up and down and fondling balls as we went. I began to ...
Get The Full Story At Sticky Pen
Ravenswood
Posted on: March 11, 2008Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen
1. GOING People came here to disappear. Or so it's been said. Marc walked into the encroaching shadows, beyond the unlit fireplace with the marble mantel, past two chairs of polished black walnut facing each other like damask upholstered sentries before the French doors that opened out to the vast inner courtyard - the heart of this old house. Or rather, this old hotel. There, he observed what light remained of the day steadily climbing up the walls of exposed brick and beyond them the sky slowly turning from a warm orange to somber indigo. He lowered his gaze at the rows and rows of potted plants and flowers surrounding the fountain gurgling water from a pitcher held by a stained cherub. Then he looked back up to the upper floors of the hotel, briefly wondering about the occupants of those rooms. He proceeded into the courtyard, his pace echoing loudly on the cobblestones. Marc was glad he had chosen to stay at this hotel, although it was a bit of a walk from the Quarter’s more frequently trodden thoroughfares. Few visitors ever took the time to get to know New Orleans beyond Bourbon Street and all its attendant tourist diversions. And this place was precisely the kind of hidden treasure that characterized the city more accurately than people tossing plastic beads at drunken exhibitionists. Stretching out from the river’s edge was a veritable maze of streets and side entrances into lush gardens and buildings within buildings, which the natives had ...
Get The Full Story At Sticky Pen
Ravenswood III: The Box of Answers
Posted on: March 10, 2008Copyright © 2008 Sticky Pen
Ravenswood: THE BOX OF ANSWERSHere, at last, the Box lay before him, beckoning to be touched, to be opened, ready to reveal to him secrets heretofore hidden by the sand of ages. An entire lifetime, longer, he had waited, craved for this very moment. Now, everything depended on this - his life, job, sanity. With the Box he could regain them and more. Another step closer now, his hand reached out, fingers almost brushing the intaglios hewn into the rose tinted ivory lid. Nothing was going to stop him from seeing what it held inside.1. LIKE THIS, BEFORE"Looking for something?"Startled and a tad embarrassed at getting caught noseying about in the hallways of Ravenswood Hotel, Sam found himself confronted by a hunk, shirtless and covered by little more than board shorts and a sheen of sweat. The stranger pulled his iPod earphones off and smiled at him. Whoa, as if that hard body wasn't enough to cause a minor meltdown, Sam thought before stammering a reply. "Uh, my room."With the knee-weakening smile still in place, the man glanced at the key Sam held. "207 is the other way. The stairs you came up from? Hang a right.""Thanks," Sam said, hoping he wasn't blushing, even as he tried to pull his gaze from below waist level where the low-slung shorts cut across the bottom row of clearly defined abdominal muscles. He gulped. Narrowing his sights back to the man's handsome face, Sam frowned. "This is going to sound really stupid, but have ...
Get The Full Story At Sticky Pen