When I was eight, Dad staggered into the baptismal font wearing white slacks, a white shirt and a white tie. The font sat deep in the floor. Family and members of our Mormon congregation were on [...]
After puberty, Dr. Samson always stuck his finger in my butt. I can’t remember him using a glove. If I had a cold, his finger was in my ass like a thermometer. I sprained my knee and he probed my [...]
My father-in-law, Paul, is masculine, a blacksmith by trade. Taciturn and inaccessible, Paul is short, standing about 5’ 7”. His hands are small, stout and coarse. He can drive a 3” spike with [...]
We're not around right now. But you can send us an email and we'll get back to you, asap.
Start typing and press Enter to search