Home of The Naughty Stories Series
M.T. Sands grew up in southern England. She ran away from school when she was sixteen and lost her virtue in a field in Burgundy, under the vines of Clos de Tart, to a mystical and long-haired young German who claimed to be able to divine the kabbalah from a rather weathered notebook which had H. H. inscribed in fading, gold leaf on the cover. For several days she followed him on her bicycle until she ate some Pierre che Rire cheese and realized she was being an absolute fool. Thereafter her career began.
There is a very attractive lady of forty years of age sitting just opposite wearing a skirt which is clearly inappropriate for the weather. She also wears a pair of grey patent leather shoes, which are fetching, but not with extravagant heels. She is clearly married, but not bejewelled. She has a nice white bag …
“Would you care for some tea? Only my partner has made this rather nice cake?” Set on the trolley was a tea service with doilies and a homemade walnut cake. When Renee, a journalist, but also a fan, turned up at the writer’s flat, she had been understandably apprehensive; the writer’s reputation preceded him. Described …
The Count’s real name was Germano de Cillis. His family owned a failing textile business in the Veneto; the Count suffered to work at its helm, though his dreams lay elsewhere. For many years he had conducted several affairs. Few people knew this about de Cillis, but he was at heart a romantic. When one …
“Second star to the right and straight on ’til morning.” J. M. Barrie Maude told me last night over a bottle this is the cookie section of the book. I asked her what she meant. She said: it’s the one where everyone’s dreaming. Not all dreams are pleasant, I think. Angus says he only ever …
One day, Laila brought some mushrooms home. “Where did you get those?” said her mother. “I picked them in the woods.” “The mushrooms are poisonous,” said her mother, throwing them in the bin. “Promise me you won’t pick them again.” A few days later, Laila was out again in the woods when she met an …
“No, sir, I wasn’t.” “Not Malaysia.” “No, sir. Aden.” “Aden… Lucky man.” “I would say so, sir.” The colonel stood with his hands behind his back as the old soldier went onto explain how he had spent the best part of the conflict holed up in a Bedouin tent. “They gave us ice tea, and …
One day, not long ago, a boy was playing alone in the snow when he became aware of a little old lady sitting on the park bench. The old lady was huddled in a coat. She wore a pair of mittens, just like his Granny, when she was cold and stoking the fire. “What are …
Jan and Pieter puffed and cursed as they lugged the last crate into the lock up. “Don’t forget we have to ship all this stuff back out again when we sell it!” “Don’t I know it! At least it will be smaller quantities.” “I am not sure this is the best place to store it, …
“To the victor belong the spoils.” Senator William M. Macy Mabel says she is not remotely patriotic or nationalistic, and therefore refused point blank to write this introduction. (She is only interested in the isle of Mabel (what would that be: a few palm trees and someone serving her dates or Turkish delight whilst she …
Hamid and Ali were playing in the street one day when Hamid asked a poignant question. “Who do we belong to?” “What do you mean?” “Well firstly I know we belong to our families at home.” “Yes, that’s true.” “Secondly, if we are all together at school, we would belong to the school!” “Yes, that …