About the Author


 For those curious about my appearance, the picture at left is me in March of 1981, during a period when I was gathering extensive information for later inclusion in my stories.  I don't look all that different today, except for the appearance of gray hairs in the beard and a shorter haircut.  I could have chosen a somewhat clearer picture, but I'm not at all sure I want to be recognized on the street by it.




My personal history isn't incredibly exciting, so I won't trouble you with it except to say that I was born in the early fifties, grew up in the sixties, came of age in the seventies (a bit later in life than many), got married in the eighties, and discovered the 'Net in the ninties.  I've always been interested in computers, at least since eighth grade, when you couldn't even dream of buying one for yourself.  In 1969 I started work as a computer programmer, and have been at it ever since, although now I prefer to call myself a software writer rather than a programmer.  I'm self-employed, married to the most wonderful woman I could ever dream of knowing, and have two kids getting on towards their teen years.

The other great abiding interest in my life besides computing is sex, and so now I can combine the two and share the results with the world.  The Internet has led to many friendships and a richer life for me, and this web site is my effort at partially repaying the debt.

As I cruise through the fourth decade of my life, I'm finding myself more open, and more curious about learning and life than I've ever been.  To an extent, my writing reflects this.  I'm sure it will do even more so in the future.  I expect to learn, to evolve, to change.   As I change, so too will my writing, but it won't stop.  I feel the urge more and more to create and share, and stories keeping forming themselves in my mind out of a combination of memories and imagination right now faster than I can write them down.  Keeping checking back here -- no telling what you might find someday soon.



Stories Behind the Stories

Occasionally, readers ask about why a certain story was written, or sometimes how much is true and how much is imagination. Here, in alphabetical order, are a paragraph or two explaining a bit about each of the stories in the archive.

Autumn Sonata: A bit brooding and Bergmanesque, the events in this story are mostly fiction, but they are emotionally true, if you can grasp what I mean by that. The characters are real people, but the exact words they say are not transcriptions of real conversations. The setting really exists as I described it, including the turret house. The last time I visited, I drove past it; it's been renovated since 1982 when the raw material of this story was painted on my brain by reality. It looks nicer now than it did then. To answer the most frequently asked question: yes, I have spent some time inside that turret.

Cyndi's Letter: This, or maybe the Keith letter, is the first erotic story I ever wrote. I wasn't comfortable writing from my own perspective, oddly, so I took the view of one of the girls. The girlish voice the story is written in is the voice of an aquaintance of mine, who I've been out of touch with for years. As for truth: indeed, one night three friends and I went skinny dipping in a nearby lake, under the influence of controlled substances. Sexual activity did result, but it wasn't as wild and uninhibited as I described it in the story.

End of the Innocence: While the story is written as if literally true, it isn't. It's an amalgam of truthful experience plus my own horny imagination. For some reason, related I'm sure to a fit of nostalgia, I just couldn't stop this tale from being typed in by my fingers. Looking back, I'm amazed at how well it turned out -- the story, I mean.

An Exhibition: This story was written for a friend whom I knew would be turned on by the events depicted. Everything in it is totally from my imagination. With her permission, I posted it here, for the enjoyment of others.

Keith's Letter: Another early story, I wrote it about the same time as the Cyndi story. Fictional, it's motivation was remembrance of sharing a house with thin walls.

Purple Tornado: Once again, I was seized by a nostalgic mood of looking back, and once again, the story just seemed to pour itself out of me. I had trouble deciding, from the raw material available, what to include and what to omit. But the style of the story as written tries to capture both the whirlwind nature of the relationship, and my quiet nostalgia looking back at it. What seems clear in retrospect was not at all clear at the time; I was often in a state of confusion in real life. Another thing you can't get from the story is how interwoven it was with all the other threads of my life at the time; standing alone it presents a different picture. Maybe that's why my friends have been surprised when they read it -- they thought they knew what was happening.

Reckless: This story is written for pure erotic fun, nothing more. There's no connection with any reality in my life, although Kristy's looks are drawn from a girl I knew in high school, and her behaviour is drawn from another girl whom I only heard about (alas). The other regular characters are from my imagination, although as always I generally have a real person in mind when I describe someone (not their sexual behaviour, just their looks and mannerisms, in case I know you and you think you may be one). This is not true in the case of guest characters, of which in chapters 4, 5, and 6 there is one each. These are friends of mine who a) are intimate enough with me for me to understand their sexual tastes, and b) requested to be included in the story. Including them has been fun for all of us.

The story is unfinished, although I do have the evolution of the plot planned to it's logical (and surprising I hope) conclusion, including some emotional growth for the characters. You can be sure whatever happens will include plenty of hot sex.

The Rules of the Game: In the course of exchanging personal stories with a close friend, we were stuck by the similarities in certain recollections of our past youthful adventures. This story is a combination of some of my experiences and those of my friend in one tale. Many erotic stories are set in some ideal world where reality doesn't get in the way of the fun -- but not this one.

September: Another early story. It was easy to write, because it actually happened, exactly as written, up until a certain point where my imagination took over and spiced it up still further. The characters are real people, of course, but as always, the names are changed.

Speechless: The parts about the setting and my reaction to it are true, the good stuff about the sex is merely what I wish would happen. Any volunteers? I'll provide directions to the place if we can agree on a time to meet {grin}.



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