I have a deep, dark secret.
When it comes to stories with an exact word count, 55 Fiction is not the only kind I've ever written. Back in my previous bloglife, circa 2004, I wrote a few stories that had 14 additional words. Do the math, or read the title.
I'm not sure I'll ever be proficient at writing erotica (though I did get some positive responses to this heated 55), but it was fun to try. So I thought I'd republish my works in this new venue by staying alliterative and celebrating Story 69 September.
Finally, I'd like the more skittish readers to relax. My stories aren't graphic; actually, they're more funny than sexy. And after this brief interlude into Parental Advisory territory, this will be a PG-rated blog again.
This, ahem, was my first.
One maroon tie, carelessly single-knotted, hung on the
doorknob. This was no surprise -- Mark, my roommate,
had been dating Teresa for weeks. The steady rotation
of chain restaurants. Banal mixed tapes as daily gifts.
These were his moves.
Through the thin dormitory walls I could hear top 40
balladry on the stereo, and I knew. On the other side
was the most vanilla, trite rendition of sex ever.