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.
“I don’t conquer; I submit.” Casanova he old lothario certainly has the bragging rights. Though if you ask me it’s pretty fucked up when a man believes his prowess is solely linked to his libido. I didn’t know the ladies suffered from the same affliction until Instagram came along and persuaded them otherwise. Giorgio tells …
Sebastien was rather large and fluffy, and often nervous. When people came to the flat, he would run off to hide. Francine would call after him: “Come back here, you silly scaredy-cat!” But Sebastien was not in a hurry to meet guests or their children. He did not enjoy Francine’s pastis and pot-filled soirées. Sebastien …
It was a running joke. And then it wasn’t any more. For years Jim had commented on the possibilities of the Carper Beater. “What about it, Jules,” he would say, peering at her across the top of his thick spectacles. For years Julie had blocked him away with the straightest of bats. It all came …
Often people will drop things. It is one of the hazards of living in a block of flats. Pegs break, especially the new plastic ones, which is why he preferred the old wooden pegs. A t-shirt or one of a pair of stocking socks or a pair of no-nonsense knickers can find their way onto …
Without doubt they were the most glamorous couple in the restaurant: he with his sharp blue eyes, carefully cropped hair and muscular frame, dressed in a suit of sangfroid; she with her long dark hair, flashing eyes and the simplest, most elegant red dress adorning her tanned and gluten-free body. Their conversation was animated but …
She was, by her own estimation, the restless type. She lived on the edge of her nerves. It was an edge that she might fall off at any moment and precipitate into the void. One day, she knew would have to deal with it, but for the time being, she chose to ignore it and …
“When the heart speaks, the mind finds it indecent to object.” Milan Kundera Italians always say London is grey. It is the common place, as we say, you English the cliché. And I thought the same till a certain lady friend took me for a little walk along the Embankment, just before the sun is …
Nicknamed the Ragno, or Spider, Guido was the innkeeper of a notorious tavern. For a fee husbands and blackmailers could make use of the spider holes that had been fashioned in the bucolic scenes and the taxidermist’s dreams that hung on the walls of the chambers. Guido made no secret of his enjoyment of such …
It was unrequited love. She was a large woman, and he had a thing about large women, but Lola wasn’t interested. “Don’t be silly, Phil. You’ll get over it!” No matter how hard he protested, she would not take him seriously. She was quite happy to go drinking with him, or even out to the …
“Suck my finger.” “No, he doesn’t say that yet.” “When does he say it then?” “He must wait a beat.” “The beat is so crucial.” “She’s working on him.” “By the way, where are they?” “You’ve forgotten.” “In the Jacuzzi?” “That’s right. There’s Live and Let Die on the soundtrack.” “The Wings’ song? McCartney?” “No, …