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Audition Tape (Mf(15), exh,
cons)
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The Corruption of Nia (MF, Mg(11), exh, sed,
cons)
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The Costume (Mg(13), sed, cons,
rom)
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Custom Shoot (Mg(12), exh, cons,
rom)
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Desert Sojourn (m(17)f(12), ped, 1st, prost,
true)
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EDS Video Service (m(11)g(12), Mg(12), exh,
cons)
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Filling In For Dad (b(12?)f(13), Mf(13), teen,
cons, inc, voy, rom)
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Full Service Girl (Mf(14), cons, prostitute, rom)
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A Happy Ending (Mf(12), cons, rom
1st)
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Hotel Angel (Mg(12), cons, prost, rom,
viol)
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The Hotel No Tell (MF, Mg(12), exh, sed, cons,
rom)
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The Interview (Mg(12), exh, sed,
cons)
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The Journey (Mg(11), exh, sed, cons, rom)
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And Larry Makes Three (m(17)f(12), ped, 1st,
prost, true)
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Laurie's Interview (Mf(12),
cons)
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Lil Playmate Katie (Mg(11),
cons)
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Maria and Anna (MF, Mg(12), prost, pedo,
cons)
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My New Girlfriend (Mf(14), teen, cons, exh,
rom)
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My Young Teen Wife (Mf(13), teen, cons,
rom)
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My Young Tutor (Mf, shaved, exh, rom, 1st,
public, prost)
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Pauls Story (Mf(13), sed, cons,
rom)
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Please Mister (Mf(12), ped, exh, 1st,
mexican)
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Room 412 (Mg(12), exh, sed,
cons)
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Rescuing Rachel (Mg, ped, exh,
rom)
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A Shot in the Dark (Mf(14), oral,
cons)
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Stripping For Grandpa (M/f(12), cons, 1st,
alcohol)
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Throwaway Child A Love Story (Mg(12), ped,
nc, rp, v, Mg(12) cons, rom)
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A Trip to France (Mg(12), exh, sed,
cons)
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The Trouble With Alana (Mf(13), large breast,
cons, exhi)
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When a middle aged man changes his address to help prevent identity theft,
he receives some strange mail. After opening a package, he receives an offer
to get some young pussy. He finds the offer too good to pass up.

Thirty one year old Sasha Peters had it all. The thirty one year old former beauty
queen had a cushy well paying corporate job and a family. One night, on a drunken whim,
she succumbs to the whims of the company's lecherous CFO. Although it pays off in the
short run, serious legal problems force Sasha into taking a job well below her means.
When romantic issues come up with her new boss, Sasha's preteen daughter is drawn into
the middle, and surprises start happening for everyone.
When a lifelong bachelor hires a preteen girl from another country as a part time
maid, it sets forth a series of unpredictable events.
Mike is an ordinary guy, who in his private life is a pedophile. Checking
out modeling websites, he sees the face of a Goddess and becomes besotted.
He has no idea that once he joins the site, it will set forth a chain of events
that will change his life forever.
The true story of how I lost my virginity. I was pushed into something
that changed me forever. It's a story of two people who find love for a
night in the desert. I've written this story partly out of a sense of
guilt.
If you are Amy, or know how she turned out, please contact
me.
This story is a prequel to my story-Audition Tape. This is what led a young teen
to offer her services to man she thinks owns a special order video service. In this
chapter of the story, a pornographer offers a deluxe DVD for sale to a fan of his
video service. The fan sees something that he never expected, as a preteen model not
only does her preteen cousin but also a much larger and older man.
A military vet has to leave college, taking over his father's business
and help to raise his kid sister. Everything is fine until he comes home
one day and finds out his sister isn't as innocent as she seems, then the
unexpected happens.
A stressed out manager takes a roadtrip into the boonies where he checks into an aged
hotel, and meets an amazing "Full Service Girl".
When Harold needed a massage, he placed an ad in the paper. What he
didn't count on was Evie.
When a middle aged man goes to a family funeral, he meets a preteen girl
willing to spend the night with him, then later, she offers more, for a price.
When their night of casual sex transcends into something more, promises are
made and.....
After retirement from the military, Doug meets a onetime acquaintance who talks
him into working at a bordello. Once there, he meets some very interesting characters
who change his life. One of those characters is a girl who teaches him love and trust.

In an alternative universe, when a journalist goes to interview the hottest 12 year
old child porn star in the world, she opens up a lot of things, including her legs.

A preteen orphan dreams of escaping the poverty of Russia.
A lonely American writer wants to grant her wish, so he enlists the help of his
best friend-a fast talking businessman. Will the trio be able to escape Putin's
hoods and the puritanical roadblocks between Russia and the US? Read on and find
out.
Glenn sneaks young Tammy into his barracks one night for some off duty
fun. Tammy's brother Larry is in for a surprise.
This story takes place in the land of "What if?" In 1978, The US
Congress became alarmed at the absolute explosion of child porn and the
fact that it was big business and outlawed cp. But What if? What if the
Supremes had ruled that the tenth amendment had authority in the case,
allowing the states to decide the issue on their own?
During a vacation to see her sister, the hero of the story gets a
welcome he didn't expect when his nephew's friend came to see him instead.

Don is a middle aged horndog and photography buff. He often goes to the local
strip joint seeking pussy. One day he meets an average looking stripper who
supplies pussy outside of the club. After a couple of dates, she introduces Don
to her preteen daughter and this unleashes Don's inner pedophile.
A middle aged retiree meets a young goddess who wants a lustful daddy.

This is a two part story. The first part of the story is a non sex
story that tells about the bonding of men. The second part is about a debt
forgotten, but repaid, with the gift of a girl's love.
Seeing a familiar place, a lonely middle aged man remembers his first
time, with someone much younger female, who was also much more
experienced.
When a lifelong pedophile realizes his dream of making a Lolita movie with
graphic nudity and real sex, he's not the only one surprised by a young teen
actress willing to go the extra mile and much more.
Chris heads off to Los Angeles to photograph naked college girls,
wanting to make some bucks, and maybe a little exposure, so to speak. As
the week is about to end, a very unexpected and willing model shows up,
with a proposition.
A businessman goes to a hideaway place to meet a preteen girl for a
professional date.
While on a mental health vacation, Chris meets an old friend and his
preteen goddess of a daughter, whom the friend despises. It takes some
doing, but Chris becomes her knight in shining armor.
A middle aged man sees another secretly dumping some garbage, and
finds it to be a stash of child porn. In the porn he finds an email
address. A very willing "victim" answers his request and an illicit
relationship begins.
A game of cards, a few drinks and Jessie would do anything her Grandpa
asked.
It is a love affair between a middle aged man and a preteen girl.
There is violence in the story, and I apologize for that, but it is
necessary for the plot. If this kind of material offends you, please go
away, but if you like sex, or just a love story, read on.
After winning a trip to see the actual work of a world famous lolita photographer,
Steve meets a lolita willing to model for him, and much more.
What do you do with a 13 year old with a double D rack and an urge to
show her rack to everyone? If you're her Uncle Carl, you try to help.

A niece comes to live with her uncle in the beautiful, enchanting British Virgin Islands.
Originally published August 10, 2012 | Wordcount 20,945
Sweet fresh water slid down my parched throat as I bent over and drank from the spigot, cooling my mouth and moistening my arid throat, bringing blessed relief I'd desperately needed. Bending over further, I let the cold water run over the back of my head and neck. It felt like an ice shower, heaven in this freak heat spell. Straightening, residual water ran down my chest, dampening and darkening my polo shirt, and trickled teasingly down my spine making me shiver. The cool relief felt wonderful.
The smell of brine floated on the air from the sea, seagulls swooped and cried out a melody to the rhythmic cadence of the surf crashing in and hissing out, crashing in and hissing out; a hypnotic and relaxing sound.
For a moment I took a break. Deep aquamarine swells moved with metronomic precision across the bay. My speedboat bobbed from the remains of yesterday's storm, tugging at the mooring lines like a stubborn puppy trying to get loose from its leash to chase after a bird. Unusually white sand twinkled with diamond-like sparks in the sun; heat shimmering, an invisible blanket hovering and distorting inches above it. I felt good. I loved living here, my little corner of heaven.
Bending back to reconstructing the wall brought down by the storm, I slapped mortar and shaped it, placing bricks, tapping and aligning, altogether mindless work that had a particularly rewarding feeling as the waist-high wall rose again. I thought back to last week.
The cell phone call had come as I was deep into writing. Sitting hunched over the laptop wracking my brain from an unusual lack of inspiration, the ceiling fan wheezed as it turned lazily providing no relief from the heat, while sweat slipped between my shoulder blades. I'd been jolted by the ring of an old-fashioned British telephone, my cell jittering across the ash wood desk. I managed to grab it as it made a desperate suicidal dash towards the edge.
"May I speak to Mr. Stevens?" a pleasant voice asked, deep, male, polite, and somewhat officious.
"Are there many Stevens with this phone number?" I inquired. His question seemed quite stupid. I wondered if he realized it.
"Ah. Quite. Sorry," he said with a tinge of embarrassment. "My name is Peters. I am an attorney and executor of your sister-in-law's estate."
There was a pause as if he was waiting for me to talk. I didn't recall him asking a question. "Well done then," I finally said to break the silence. Perhaps it would jump-start him.
It may have confused him, Mr. Peters, attorney at law. After a few moments hesitation he continued. "Yes, well. Hmm. Let me see. Oh, I am executor of your sister-in-law's estate..."
"Was there something specific you needed to talk to me about Mr. Peters?" I interrupted, staring out through the slatted glass window at banana plant leaves and palm fronds rustling in the breeze. Leaning forward I opened the window slats, cool breeze finally accomplishing what the ceiling fan couldn't, air circulation.
"I do apologize. Let me see. Your sister-in-law, Mary Stevens passed away last week. An unfortunate accident I'm afraid. My condolences, sir."
I'd been told of her death in an email from an old acquaintance. It hadn't really meant anything to me. I'd met her once at my brother's funeral eleven years ago and we hadn't hit it off, so I'd had no reason to connect again. All I remember was a pretty brunette with a haughty attitude and not enough grief. Besides, she lived in Nova Scotia. I lived in the Virgin Islands. We didn't share the same social circles.
Mr. Peters continued, "Mary has bequeathed you a rather large sum of money Mr. Stevens."
Well that was a shock. "Why? We didn't really know each other."
"Ah. Yes, well you see... you say you didn't know each other?" he asked in surprise.
"Most unusual. Hmm. Most unusual," he muttered. "Well then," he continued in a brisker tone, "you might be surprised to learn you have a niece. And you might be even more surprised to learn you've been named her guardian."
That woke me up from the stultifying conversation. A niece? Me? Her guardian? "Are you sure?" I asked leaning back from the desk.
"Yes, quite sure Mr. Stevens. Her will was very specific. You are...," I heard papers being shuffled, "Tina's guardian."
As I placed the final brick in the wall, tamping it down with some satisfaction and stretching an aching back, I looked at my watch, three-thirty. I'd need to get moving soon. I had Tina arriving at five sixteen and a twenty-five minute boat ride to get to the airport. More like forty I thought, looking at the swells a final time. Better get a move on.
I pulled my polo shirt off as I entered the combination kitchen/breakfast room/den, the largest room in my house, pausing for a moment to appreciate the recently installed professional grade brushed chrome appliances and ash wood cabinetry. I loved cooking. It provided the immediate gratification writing did not; writing novels was a long process that frustrated me frequently. Pulling open the frosted glass fridge door I grabbed a Perrier and dropped my damp shirt on the speckled gray granite counter, putting one hand on its cool surface, using it as a heat sink to cool my sweaty hand while drinking deeply from the bottle.
I didn't really need the four-and-a-half million dollars from Mary's estate. It felt like a bribe, Mary telling me from the grave, 'Take care of my daughter and I'll pay you'. I didn't need money. Actually, thinking about it, I didn't really need a niece either.
Mr. Peters had advised me Tina was eleven years old, almost twelve, and, after shuffling through and consulting more papers, would be ready to fly out the following week, and no, she did not have any other relatives who could take her in, he added with some distain at my question.
Oh well. I liked kids, so it wasn't that much of an imposition. I'm home all the time and have plenty of space. The income from being published three years ago had surprised me. But I liked writing; it was more like a hobby than a job. Having a niece would be okay. I'm not a hermit and liked company even though I lived with the isolation and beauty of Peter Island. It seemed to add to my creativity, inspire me.
Grabbing my damp shirt, I headed to the shower.
Tina heard the grind of landing gear being deployed as she stared out the window. Crystal clear turquoise and deep blue water sparkled, sandbanks punctuating the sea with bright underwater commas, long white wakes of tiny motor boats looking like brush strokes on the fascinating canvas, and islands, small and large, grew as the plane descended. She heard the thunk of landing gear locking in place and tightened her seat belt, wondering what Uncle Chet would be like.
The Boeing 737 tilted, twisted and bounced as it carved through the hot, turbulent sea level air. Tina watched turquoise water flash by like the rapids of a river, blurred trees slipping by, the runway appearing, and felt the plane hit the runway in the seat of her pants. Her enjoyment of the sights faded as worry stole in. What would living here be like? She was nervous, feeling slight discomfort in her stomach at the uncertainty ahead.
It had been hard enough when Mom died. She hadn't liked living with the neighbours while the legal process sorted itself out. At first, after getting over the shock, she'd been glad to find out she had an uncle. Though why Mom never told her about him she didn't understand.
The initial excitement of hearing he lived in the Virgin Islands, visions of clean beaches, surf and palm trees faded when she realised she'd have to leave her friends behind.
"Welcome to the British Virgin Islands. The local temperature is 105 degrees and time is now five twenty. We hope you enjoyed your flight. Thank you for flying American Airlines."
Tina grabbed her backpack as she stood. A stewardess squeezing by passengers in the narrow aisle stopped in front of her. "Tina, could you please wait here? We have someone coming to escort you," she said with a nice smile.
"Okay." Sitting down, she felt a rush of hot humid tropical air flood the cool cabin as the doors opened. Little butterflies flitted though her stomach. Will Uncle Chet be nice? Will he look like the pictures of dad? She'd never known dad; he'd died before she was born. But the photos she treasured, the ones in her back pack, showed him as a handsome, dark haired man, medium height and medium build with a slim muscular body of a Canadian Armed Forces soldier, which he'd been.
Sometimes she missed him, even though she'd never known him. She often dreamed of what life would have been like if he had been alive. Would Mom have been different? Did she love him? She wondered how Mom might have been if she'd been warmer, not the cool, distant Mom she was, occupied with social life all the time. Sometimes she'd felt like Mom treated her as an after-thought, almost an imposition.
I spotted Tina being led by an official, a burly grandfatherly man, as they exited the customs and baggage area, blue back pack over one shoulder and pulling a green hard-sided suitcase on wheels behind her. She was looking around with apprehension, a slight frown visible between her eyebrows.
I made my way over to them, suddenly feeling nervous. Well, this was it; responsibility for the first time in my life. Looking at Tina I felt sorry for her. It must be hard, I thought, to be alone, lose y
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