Non-Consent/Reluctance

I’ve been married to you for about two years.

You are my dream man.

I came to you a virgin, you showed me the ways of love.

Sadly though our life together has been reduced to quick snatches of time spent together at dinner and in bed. Sometimes we’re both too tired to make love. I hate that. I want to be close to you, closer than your skin.

Do you love me the way I love you? Do you feel the pain I feel at our separation? I don’t think you care.

You have a good job that gives us lots of money

They had been working in the same office for some time now. He had always lusted after her lithe young form in stolen moments. He, the studious young employee, trying to get ahead, trying to always do the right thing. Trying to get her attention, trying to get her affections. But she would have nothing to do with him. She was more concerned about her life, her lovers, and, quite frankly, herself.

She was cold to his advances, to say the least. But even crueler than that, she always seemed to be

Liam knew he owned the school. He was the best football player this small local college had seen in years and there was even talk of him trying to go pro. He had his pick of all the girls on campus; life was good. Except for one little problem. His US History professor was tough. He didn’t even help the athletes out. In the tiny town in the south, most of the athletes were white, so there was no talk of any racial discrimination by this professor, but he discriminated against guys who

Julie ran from the party as fast as her long legs would carry her. Her first college party had been a total disaster and now she was probably the laughing stock of the school.

*

She had been sitting with some of her girlfriends from the dorm at the local coffee shop. It was supposed to be a study session, but all her friends wanted to talk about was their boyfriends or potential boyfriends. Since she didn’t have either one, she was feeling left out.

Her eyes roamed the cafe as she sat

The Gash was the worst beat in town, and being the cop working it meant that you had three options: get promoted and get reassigned, leave the force, or wait to die. Cops had a shorter lifespan in The Gash than a white-girl’s virginity did in a rap concert. I had worked this beat once, before I took done a cop-killing drug-dealing Puerto Rican slut named La Zorra and made vice. There was no need for me to come back to this shitty-ass place, but I wanted to. The Gash was my connection to

I’m in bed waiting for you while you brush your teeth, wash your face, all those little personal tasks at the very end of the day. I’m wearing a not-too-interesting light woven cotton shortie top and panties, lying on my back, drifting off to sleep. I know you’re naked, it’s a hot summer night and you never wear pajamas, anyway. I feel the bed shift when you sit down.

“Don’t do anything,” you say. “Just turn your head away and pretend like

Let me tell you, Jack, I had one hell of a shitty day today, although it really started some time ago. I could tell there was something wrong. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but there was something amiss. For the last several months my wife, Lynn, seemed to be growing more distant toward me. Sex with her was almost to the point of nonexistent. In those rare times we did have sex, it was as though she couldn’t wait ’till it was over. It was to the point that sex became

I sat at my desk today and chatted over messenger. This was pretty normal for me, reaching out to those far away. You were at work today but one of the windows open was a dialogue with you.

After half a day of talking about sex, non-consensual sex, resistance play and bondage you had excused yourself for some fresh air. I giggled thinking about the hard bulge you must be trying to conceal in your slacks.

I wondered if any of the girls in the office would notice and maybe get themselves off when

The Gate Attendant could barely focus as he compared the passport in his hand with the flight ticket. Both said, “Anny Santiago”…and the picture didn’t do her justice. As he ripped up her ticket he managed out a meek, “Enjoy your flight”.

Anny thanked the man and took back her ticket and dragged her bag through the corridor. When she passed by the gate attendant, she caught him doing a double take. She was used to it.

As she entered the plane, she was greeted

Ivana felt like a prisoner being forced to lock her own cell doors as she slid the deadbolt on the restaurants doors into the cold steel jamb. She then plodded across the room and shut the blinds on the windows. The room grew darker and more like a dungeon as each blind was closed.

The manufacturer had intended the blinds to be used to keep the sun out of the room. Keeping outsiders from witnessing what was happening in the restaurant was an unintended benefit of the shades. Ivana could