Brave the Shave 2019

This me. A hairy tattooed lover of heavy metal.

This time last year my mother passed away after a brief battle with cancer. In her honour, and to raise money for the Mcmillan Nurses who eased her pains during her stay in hospital, I have decided to undertake the Brave the Shave 2019.

The long hair and beard will all go, and be donated to a charity that makes wigs for cancer survivors.

My hair loss will be temporary. The loss of my mother permanent. If you can, and only if you can, spare a little loose change to make a donation, it is all going to such a deserving cause.

Thank you for just reading.



So I just read post on Facebook that deeply offended me, but then also had me questioning my own past views.

A young woman posted about her recent experience using a well known dating app and a response she received from potential, or so she thought, connection. It read along the lines of, “Sorry, I could never go on date with you as, at best, you rate as a 6. Ad I am an 8, obviously I’m looking for someone equal or higher to my rating.”

First of all, who rated him an 8? Secondly, if I were to be objective, I’d score her higher than a 6. However, beauty is subjective. What one finds beautiful is not always seen the same way by another. Using this guy’s rating mechanic and his goal to date equal to or higher, what makes him think a 10 rated woman would want to be seen with a 8 rated male?

The whole thing is preposterous! Beauty is very much within the eye of the beholder and should not be subjective to a dumb ratings method.

I’d like to think I’ve rejected the chance of a relationship based on compatibility, not because of looks alone.

Thoughts of: authorchrisbrown


Sordid Affair 18+ NSFW

The drive home from work was long and tiresome, the rain made visibility poor adding to the increasing sense of an impending headache. I was ready to kick off my shoes, pour myself a scotch and settle down within the embrace of my loving wife. Upon opening the door I was confronted by unusual silence. Normally there would be the sound of her awful taste in music, or some reality show she’d been watching. I kept my shoes on and entered the living room, where both the stereo and TV were off. Instead, sitting on the coffee table was my laptop with a post-it note stuck to the screen. I simply read, “I know”.

Turning on the laptop I was confronted with a series of pictures, some more increasingly risqué than others. She’d discovered my one secret, and I feared the outcome. Searching the drawer of the side unit presented me with even more emotional fear. My gun was missing. If she knew who was in those photos, then that was where she’d be. I ran from the house and drove without care for the road conditions or the level of visibility. My only thought was to reach them both.

*   *   *

“That’s the bra in this photo!” she screamed throwing both to the floor. “And that’s the one in this one.”

“I’m sure there are hundreds of women with exactly the same ones!” replied a second woman, begging on her knees.

“Oh and I suppose those same women just so happen to have the same vibrator as well do they?” The gun was pointed now directly at the kneeling woman’s head as she sobbed uncontrollably.

*   *   *

When I arrived the front door was wide open, a sure sign something was wrong. Inside and I heard the recognisable screams of abuse coming from my wife, interspersed with another sobbing. I ran to the master bedroom where they both were and flung open the door.

“NO!” I shouted at seeing my wife pressing a gun up against the temple of my lover.

“Well there’s the admission right there,” said my wife turning the gun upon me. “Get naked the both of you!”

My lover and I momentarily looked at each other, then began removing out clothes.

“On your knees,” my wife demanded, gesturing where she wanted me with the gun. “Now you, suck his cock!”

My lover hesitated, more from shock than disgust at what had been asked of her. The gun nestled back in her temple soon had her obeying her command. I tried not to allow myself to be excited, but her warm wet lips around my shaft was too much. My lover must have figured that if this was how she was going to die, she’d make the most of it, as her tongue stroked across the head of my cock, before the sliding down the shaft as it hardened down her throat.

“Now bite it!” whispered my wife in her ear. “Bite deep until his blood begins to fill that cock sucking mouth of yours.” She pressed the gun a little harder into the side of her head as a way of telling her what would happen if she didn’t.

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed as her teeth sank into my erect shaft. Blood immediately began pouring from where they’d punctured the skin.

“Don’t you dare fucking cum in her mouth!”

Satisfied with the level of pain I was enduring, tears now filling my own eyes, she barked her next instructions,

“Now fuck her!”

My lover stood and positioned herself on the edge of the bed, my blood still dripping from the corners of her mouth. I was surprised to see that she had been aroused as I had, her shaven pussy glistening and inviting. As I offered by still bleeding cock, and her lips devoured it, the pain was unbearable. The burning sensation tore through my body as I slowly fucked her.

“Harder!” came the command, and so through gritted teeth I fucked her for all I was worth. There was no passion, no lust. I just thrust that cock deep inside her until natural events took over and we both climaxed.

“Now suck her breasts!” demanded my wife. I leaned down from between her legs and took one of them into my mouth. “Now bite it off!”

“NO!” I said pulling myself away. “You can hurt me all you want, but I won’t hurt her.”

“Too bad!” she replied, pointing the gun and shooting my love in the head.

Blood splattered the walls, as her body convulsed with the impact, before dying almost instantly. I screamed her name as rage, anger and sorrow consumed me, then a feeling of numbness overwhelmed me. My sight began to fail as I slumped heavily to the floor, deconstructing events in my mind as to why the pain and hurt had left me. There was another gunshot, and I watched as my wife fell to the floor, dropping the gun in the process. Nothing seemed real, was this some kind of twisted nightmare. Everything went black.

Through my heartache at seeing my lover ripped from me, I’d missed the second bullet. The one that now ended this sordid affair.

Copyright: authorchrisbrown


The Party

I woke somewhere around four o’clock. Through blurry eyes it was the first number I could make out, and it coincided with the fact it was still dark behind my drawn curtains. Despite the time, there was a party raging on next door with music penetrating through the walls waking me from my slumber.

It wasn’t the first time, nor the first this week. I grabbed the first object I could find with rage coursing through my veins and stormed out of the house.

The item I’d grabbed was a golf club and it connected violently with the side of the head of a young teen who had his back to me drinking on the front lawn. His skull cracked showering blood and teeth everywhere with the force of the blow. A young girl who has been talking to him screamed in terror before a blow silenced her perminently shattering her jaw.

Inside, the blood flowed and bones cracked as the youths tried in vain to flee my enraged rampage yelling that all I wanted was sleep. A single downward swing silenced the music and I stood breathing heavily as surveyed the carnage. There was now nothing but silence.

Suddenly the sound of music woke me from my sleep. I rubbed my eyes and squinted at the alarm clock by the side of my bed. It was some time after four am. Banging on the wall I pulled the pillow over my head and tried to once more sleep.

Copyright: authorchrisbrown