His voice took on a tone of its own. Feeling the palpable strain between mother and son, Elizabeth attempted to defuse the tension. ‘Whatever it is ...hat is being prepared for dinner smells heavenly, Mrs. St. Claire,’ she said. Edith pursed her lips, exhaling a frustrated breath. ‘That it does, my dear,’ she said. Then she stood, calling out, ‘Henry!’ Henry peeked his head into the parlor, smiling slightly at Elizabeth as she nodded her head in recognition. ‘Yes, madame,’ he said. ‘Dinner is. .. all kinds of things in the false bottom of the foot locker.Bill thumbed through the early years of the Diary ... highschool angst and frustration ... the nickname 'Drink' settled upon him by the head cheerleader, the horrible uncoordination of bone growth and lagging muscle growth. Eighth grade was particularly horrid. The class picture had him standing in the back row while the rest of his classmates were on a riser. Everyone says girls out grow boys in the eighth grade ... but not. God, but that title name is awful though... I'll take any suggestions with anything better in the comments. [Status: Chapter Eight Released - 30/08/2022]Caffeinated Quickies: Honeyed Housewife (A Bimbo Bakery Short Story) - Mike comes home after receiving a big promotion to find his wife a very changed woman. A short, light, mildly silly story written for my amazing ByMeACoffee supporters featuring their own suggestions, kinks and story setting. It is a fun little break from my usual smutty. The wound was insignificant, but it did show that Iagolo was trying. The match was going to end one way or the other before that small blood loss amounted to anything significant. Again, chalk up one for the virtue of a layer of fat.It was time for another smack with my shield boss, so I worked my way to his right side, the one with the sword. He did not recognize what I had in mind and simply continued to batter at my shield with his sword. Suddenly, I was close enough and jumped at Iagolo.