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| Type | Title | Author | Replies | Last updated |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| Forum topic | what ya readin' ? | anna_tempt | 12 | 20 years 9 months ago |
| Forum topic | The chicken at the door by Megan | mykle | 10 | 20 years 9 months ago |
| Forum topic | Non-Joke... by Jack Cade | pepsoid | 2 | 20 years 9 months ago |
| Forum topic | Raver - Spack | drew_gummerson | 3 | 20 years 9 months ago |
| Forum topic | The warm woman by SPAN | Yutka | 1 | 20 years 9 months ago |
| Forum topic | Phoenix: Enzo | Soraia Almeida | 9 | 20 years 9 months ago |
| Forum topic | Oh Holy Night by Fergal | mykle | 19 | 20 years 9 months ago |
| Forum topic | If you had to save just one piece of writing on ABCtales from a monster that was eating all the stories and poems in the world.. | markbrown | 35 | 20 years 10 months ago |
| Forum topic | Conserve with Grandma | Noticeboard | 5 | 20 years 10 months ago |
| Forum topic | C & G | drew_gummerson | 13 | 20 years 10 months ago |
| Forum topic | Sudden Sailing | bizz | 7 | 20 years 10 months ago |
| Forum topic | Write / Don't Write | rokkitnite | 32 | 20 years 10 months ago |
| Forum topic | Rokkitnite - tricky as stilt sex? | mcmanaman | 13 | 20 years 10 months ago |
| Forum topic | List your friends by mcmanaman | tcook | 3 | 20 years 11 months ago |
My stories
In my lap
'We could have conquered England!' she cried, her arms up, hatracked against the window her boy hips agitating the curtain into a skirt, and - i'm undone again. 'we could have snuck in round the back
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- 1580 reads
Savings
Savings When kissing me, I thought of geese, all rubber necked and clacking, a lolling tongue under anaesthetic. His hands at my neck like my killer, at my chest a mountaineer his hands networked and literate
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- 2194 reads
Handle
Handle When in snapped like a neck I thought, 'fuck', I mean no one was in, and she was there. Turning round bright and bloody, she lay there, like my washing smelling of me - me sliding down her throat
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- 2173 reads
Love in the Park
Love in the Park He loves me, and I know that when he drops deep on his knees, one hand hidden in the felted grass, the other on me nursing my as yet, un-conceived baby boy who is nothing, but a fleck of a fir tree,
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- 1784 reads
Relief
You turn me over slow as a clam surfacing and for air between my thighs,
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- 1686 reads