Author: Plenty_Ambition_3905

Midnight on Church Street [MF, Historical Fiction, Noire, Dubious Consent]

Midnight on Church Street…

A thick white mist blows from my lips as I exhale. Winter’s been especially brutal this year in Chicago. It’s a bitter cold, but it’s nothing the crew hasn’t seen before. Everyone’s dressed for the part, except, of course, for the man from the Bureau. With nothing but a wool suit and a fancy hat, my guess would have been that he’d never been north of Atlanta. He didn’t even have gloves on. Kept his hands stuffed so deep in his pockets it looked like he was about to put two new holes in his jacket. I almost felt bad for the bastard. Maybe I would have offered him the pair I kept in the trunk if he hadn’t made it known how much of a prick he was right off the bat.

“I don’t know how you Mickeys do things up here, but back home, the local cops know who’s in charge,” he’d said with a smug look on his face. “That’s me. This is my operation, and I didn’t take a train halfway across the fuckin’ country to have a bunch of Micks and Wops in blue fuck it up. Hear me?” Read more »

I Hate-Fucked My Ex After Helping Her Move [MF, Emotion, Dubious Consent, Rough Sex]

***Writer’s note: This is a long one. It gets heavy, and it gets hot, and it might not be for everyone. But if you’re willing to brave these waters, dear reader, then by all means, pour yourself a drink and find some place comfy. Let’s begin.***

I parked in front of her new apartment complex. Grass, trees, stucco exterior. Standard fair for the southwest. A bomb would probably cause less damage to this little community than its newest tennant. Or maybe I was just being hyperbolic.

“What the fuck am I doing?” I mutter to myself as I kill the engine. I open my door and climb out, and then I see her in person for the first time in six years. She comes around from behind the little U-Haul trailer she’s hitched to the back of her car, a smile beaming in my direction.

“Oh my god, can I hug you!?” she calls out from across the parking lot. She hurries to close the distance and before I can stutter out a reply she has her arms around my shoulders, her cheek pressed to mine. “It’s been so long.”

“Yeah…” I say. No shit, I think to myself. Read more »

The Day Out… [MF, Public, Romance]

The Day Out…

She places the white leather box on the glass countertop in front of us. It’s only a container, and yet its quality hints at what’s waiting inside. Tilting back the lid on its brass hinges, she reveals an exquisite wristwatch, dazzling as it reflects the display lights shining down on it.

“It’s beautiful,” you say. “Can he try it on?”

“Of course!” She says with a brilliant smile. She can’t be any taller than 5’2 and the counter stands more than halfway above her torso. It doesn’t seem to get in her way. She takes the watch from the case and reaches for my arm. 

She’s had this warm smile on her face since we came into the store. It’s not a salesman’s smile, full of feigned friendship, but genuine. Her caramel skin contrasts beautifully with the platinum gold of the timepiece as she slides it over my wrist. Her skin feels soft as silk as it brushes against mine. She expertly latches the band into place. A perfect fit.

You rest a hand on the back of my shoulder and lean in to look at it. Read more »

The Special Night [MF, Bondage, Romance, Anal]

The Special Night…

The winter breeze blows past as I close the door behind us. I turn, and see you looking at me with those knowing eyes. I step closer to you, just out of kissing distance, and I feel the chill of the evening air still clinging to your coat. You close the distance. While you’re softly pressing your lips to mine, that familiar tingle starts at the base of my neck, butterflies in my stomach, and any other number of cliches someone might use to describe the way a woman like you makes them feel. Despite my disdain for all the cookie-cutter phrases out there, I can’t help but think that after all this time, you still take my breath away. You pull back from me, leaving the taste of your favorite wine in my mouth. My heart starts to thump ever so faintly in my ears.

“Put that in the fridge,” you say, looking at the bag of leftovers I’ve carried from the restaurant. “I’ll get ready.” Read more »