I feel compelled to tell any readers that my stories will not be featuring Danny using his powers. While I do view him as a horny teen, I can’t see him using his powers to spy on people. Not to mention the fact that he’s not going to be called away to fight ghosts while he’s boning someone. Just sayin’.
Wrong. It was wrong. In every way, shape, and form, God knows it was wrong. But, and God will admit it if He was ever asked, it felt so right. So good.
The perfect crime is not achieved with well timed break-ins to vaults holding millions of dollars. It’s not a well put together kidnapping, or a unsuspected, unsolved murder. The perfect crime is sex.
Not rape. No, never rape. That’s not what this was. It was the furthest thing from it. It was love in it’s purest form, expressed from one boy to his beloved. Rape is aggression, teamed with selfishness. It’s take without give. This was the perfect balance of give and take. Perpetuating itself with the effort of two loving, secretive teens.
But there is one kind of sex, one kind of orgasmic bliss, that is illegal in the United States. Some shudder to think about it. Our two protagonists do, but for different reasons than many. Others have warmed to the idea. Others participate. Others, for instance, like Danny and Jasmine Fenton.
To begin with, Danny is fourteen. He has jet black hair and innocent blue eyes. He’s tall, for a freshman, but scrawny. On the outside, he looks every part of a gawky, shy teenage boy on the brink of adult hood, trying to get control of his raging hormones. On the inside, however…
A man. A man with his spirit on fire for the woman he loves. His heart burns for her. He aches every minute, every second of the day. On the forefront of every thought on his mind, all else taking a very, very low second. His Continue reading