Bondwriter

No FB account, so I had to get the info on my own. In British charts: Best selling LP in France at that time: (Stevie Wonder is way more kickass than Luis Mariano. Recently got into a Stevie Wonder binge on Youtube, and his late 60s early 70s stuff just rocks.)

Thanks a ton, people. I had missed this when I logged in yesterday. Sorry for replying late to the thread.

Mathurin and Evariste have been lovers for a while. Will their newly found appreciation for fetish activities change their relationship?

This story was designed as gay erotica I couldn't read anywhere else. It focuses on the relationship of two gay lovers, their bondage activities and their taste for various fetishes. It does contain some activities of a sexual nature between males. If this is against the laws where you live to read such stuff or if it may hurt your feelings in any manner, please do not read any further. 3. Mutual agreement At dawn he was woken up by Évariste’s hand stroking his crotch softly. He opened up

This story was designed as gay erotica I couldn't read anywhere else. It focuses on the relationship of two gay lovers, their bondage activities and their taste for various fetishes. It does contain some activities of a sexual nature between males. If this is against the laws where you live to read such stuff or if it may hurt your feelings in any manner, please do not read any further. Thanks to Sterling for his great editing work. 2.Very first time Évariste had waited fo

This story was designed as gay erotica I couldn't read anywhere else. It focuses on the relationship of two gay lovers, their bondage activities and their taste for various fetishes. It does contain some activities of a sexual nature between males. If this is against the laws where you live to read such stuff or if it may hurt your feelings in any manner, please do not read any further. Thanks to Sterling for his great editing work. 1.The beginning of a long adventure

Here are poems and lyrics I write to be shared with others

UNDER NEON LIGHTS I was walking back home Warm evening Smell of tar An old man was limping down my building's staircase The bag that he carried seemed a heavy burden I even thought of a corpse he'd have to get rid of It's my laundry he said And sure he'd tell me where the laundromat is Why didn't I come along in the cab he had called His grandmother was from Orleans And he used to speak eight languages We got to the place took care of our stuff We sat down for a beer

Late rainy afternoon The poem is somewhere in the har I feel it whirling around the tables flying above the heads gently as he comes to greet us remains for a short while in the words I may grasp comparing the merits of Pippen and Jordan but voices enlightened I hear their rhythm flow until it has covered that of the loud juke-box my gaze follows the poem he always has a better place to see other people to visit Now he roars he bitches in the voice of this girl who

The Sun Sometimes Rises We're on our way, come my friend! The path is open to us and to those Who are ready to storm The sunlit truth. We'll sail endlessly Towards shores we've never seen Since there's nothing left to discover. We're not a new breed to dig We're those no one can stop We are eternity We are the universe's parents We are the secret passages We are the wind blowing everyday We are the living cells We are billions of tons of carbon We are hydrogen al

HOW MUCH TIME DO WE HAVE? We never have enough three minutes for a soft boiled egg five for a cigarette two years to recover from a major breakdown two weeks to recover from a sprained ankle ouch! one day to recover from too much tequila you're high for two hours if you chose the right stuff a handful of seconds of this orgasm bliss push it up to fifteen two hours and a half for a thriller movie which can be painfully long if it lacks rhythm two seconds and a half for a

NOVEMBERS There is something about your scattered remains sweet great great uncle of mine which burst into my mind I remember reading about you I had just turned thirteen This silly way you died blown into pieces by a bombshell far away so far away from the front line somewhere near Verdun It is ironical it could have been fiction yet it was world war one A mere coincidence you were not much older than those nice youths tonight who're dancing by my side

The Evil Clown This story is a work of fiction, all characters and plot lines are fictional. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. The Evil Clownremains the property of BC & Bondwriter. The story or characters may not be reproduced or republished elsewhere without the expressed written consent of the author. 1/ Eavesdropping on the boys "OK, now you twist your arm a little… Yes, just like that! Do you feel the noose getting a little looser?" "Yes! Hey,

The Adventures of Simon Birthday Party Gone Awry. Story by BC and Bondwriter Text by Bondwriter This story is a work of fiction, all characters and plot lines are fictional. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Birtday Party Gone Awryremains the property of the author. The story or characters may not be reproduced or republished elsewhere without the expressed written consent of the author. WARNING: This story doesn't have any sexual content or even

The Adventures of Simon Encounter of a Loony Kind Story by BC and Bondwriter Text by Bondwriter This story is a work of fiction, all characters and plot lines are fictional. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Encounter of a Loony Kind remains the property of the author. The story or characters may not be reproduced or republished elsewhere without the expressed written consent of the author. WARNING: This story doesn't have any sexual conte