The Rainbow Wizard carefully packed away his guitar in its case, and
closed the lid. He hefted the case easily in one hand, and smiled sweetly at
Flower. “I had a wonderful time this evening,” he said, “And I hope that we
can do it again sometime soon.”
“Oh, I’d like that,” Flower replied, picking up her own guitar. “It
was wonderful meeting you. I was beginning to feel like I wasn’t going to make
any friends here at all. Well, goodnight!” With a wave, she turned and was
gone, guitar case banging against her knees as she strode toward the elevator.
The Rainbow Wizard watched her leave, his smile contemplative in a
manner only practiced by those in the Messiah business. After a long moment,
he sighed gustily and turned to Mary Magdalene, who’d packed her guitar away
and was standing with her arms crossed, looking at him with an expression that
would curdle fresh milk.
He smiled at her disarmingly. “What’s wrong, my love?”
Mary Magdalene didn’t even wind up. One strong fist came up in a blur
and caught the Rainbow Wizard right in the gut. He stumbled backward one or
two steps with a grunt of pain, stumbled over a coffee table, and fell
backward onto it, then onto the couch behind it, with a clatter. (more…)

The night was balmy. I had just left the bar and was pretty
depressed that I was alone. The walk home was sobering, not a long walk,
but enough to bring me back to reality as I lit a smoke. I stopped for a
bit, gathering my bearings before I proceeded.

She was standing opposite me on the other side of the street. I
instinctively put out my cigarette and walked over.

“Have you got another one?”, she said.

“Sure. Mind menthol?”

It was too dark too see completely. Her body, however, was thin and
petite. Her hair was long, dark and rather curly. Her method of smoking was
unique, not just exotic, but sensual. I could have sworn she was making love to
the damn thing, exhaleing straight and over so that I walked into the smoke.
Talking as we walked her voice was seductive, alluring a sexual connotation at
every oppurtunity. As we walked, I realized that we were not heading in any
specific destination. She however knew exactly where she was going because I
soon realized that we were in the Campus Woods.

We came upon the river that ran through the woods and headed toward
the footbridge. My mind was swirling. I could not distinguish between her
perfume and the flora. Fresh new scents exited me at every inhalation. Sweet
and sexy winds carried her hair. I was truly hard, but more than that my
mind was filled with passion and raw sensuality. Half-way across the bridge
she stopped and sat down, taking off her boots. (more…)

You may remember Easy, that I had met your lady (whose name is also
Renee) when she was wearing those great little dolphin shorts and
riding her bicycle, and I was out running. We had had a wonderful
time that morning, as you may well remember. Well, I was pleased
when Renee called, and asked if I would come over and help her with a
surprise. I agreed, and went over to her place. Renee was looking
just great, in a knit tank top, shorts, and sandals. I asked her
what the surprise was, and she said “Well, Easy has been asking me to
shave my pussy, and I finally decided I would to surprise him. I
liked yours from the last time we were together, so I thought you
might help me.” I said “I will be glad to” also remembering the last
time we were together. Renee then said “What do we do first?” I
said “Get an old sheet, the cream you use when you shave your legs,
and a fresh razor.” She did, and then we went into her bedroom. We
spread the old sheet over her bed, and I told her to get undressed. (more…)

The Bandit and Zero kicked the dirty grey snow off of their boots and
walked up the steps of the East Habitat. A quick ping of a security card in
the lock, and the door sighed open, brushing a warm breeze across their faces
from inside. They walked out of the dark and into the central lounge,
gratefully unzipping their coats. The usual late-night gang was there, Thud
holding court like a king in the chair by the coffee machine and dealing a
hand from his everpresent cribbage deck to Lanky and Plaids. Conan was
sprawled out on the couch, reading a paperback, and the notes of an acoustic
guitar wafted gently through the air as the Rainbow Wizard played a love song
for Mary Magdalene on a nearby stretch of carpet. (more…)

Some girls grow up wanting to be Vivian Leigh in “Gone With
The Wind,” gliding down an opulant staircase in an exquisite
evening gown. My fantasy aspirations came from a different era of
film. I wanted to be Samantha Eggar in “The Collector,” squirming
helplessly against my ropes with my captor is out of the room,
loving and dreading the thought of what he would do when he
returned.
That wasn’t my only fantasy, of course, but it was a powerful
one. I took a lot of pleasure from it laying in bed alone, rubbing
myself against the pillow between my legs, wishing for someone who
could push me to new and higher levers of sexual feeling.
But I had absorbed just enough feminist philosphy from my
mother to feel guilty about such thoughts. I also had just enough
self-protective distrust of men to keep me from asking any of my
early sexual partners to oblige. So I went off to college with my
submissive feelings still unfocused, compartmented away from my
“real” life. They probably would have stayed there but for
Colleen. (more…)