Gillian Fraser
Bio
my writing is eclectic. I love life, and many things interest me.
Hopefully, something I wrote will interest you, too!
So: Like, read and if you are so inclined shower me
with your tips. Every little bit helps fund future stories. <3
Stories (5)
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When Virgins Collide
Tracy was thrilled. She knew tonight would be spectacular! After all, sex was perfectly natural. She had been taught by her ultra conservative Christian parents that fornication cheapens sex and you deprive yourself of the most special experience you could ever imagine: Married sex with two clean and pure people. Once you lose your virginity there’s no going back. As hard as it was, Tracy resisted the urges. She never went past kissing with her many boyfriends, That was her secret for staying in control. Nothing was going to deprive her of the most special experience of two virgins consummating on their wedding night. She had no idea what to expect, aside from kissing, and at some point there would be a penis inside her vagina and it would feel amazing.
By Gillian Fraser5 years ago in Filthy
Growing up in Rural Nova Scotia
I was born in Lunenburg, Nova Scotia. That’s in eastern Canada for those of you who may not know. I lived in a small community nestled between Lunemburg and another, more progressive town called Bridgewater. They were both small towns. Lunenburg was smaller, but more well known because it was the birthplace of the famous schooner depicted on the Canadian dime: the Bluenose. If you were born there you were a bonafide “Bluenoser”
By Gillian Fraser5 years ago in Families
Unheralded Heroes
Once, a “friend” if you could call her that made a post on facebook full of mini clips showing all the acts of kindness she was doing.. one act for every year. Allison was pretty, popular, and successful. She projected herself as a good Mormon woman. So naturally, her post exploded with likes and loves. The whole congregation as well as her many other friends couldn’t say enough about her.
By Gillian Fraser5 years ago in Humans
The SpellBook
Claire signed and rubbed her temples. She glanced at the old grandfather clock on the wall out of habit. It had been broken for months. The soft ticking used to annoy her, but now she kind of missed it. Silently, so as not to wake her grandmother, she pulled her phone out of her back pocket. 11:11 p.m. Her essay would have to wait. She stood up to stretch. She reached her arms above her head, then to the side. A pile of booked toppled to the floor. Claire groaned. She kicked them and muttered “goddam hoarder” to herself. The study was filled with piles of books, papers, and photo albums, but despite that, it was the only room aside besides her bedroom that still had floor space. She clenched her fists. “Just ten more months and I can leave this hell hole” she muttered as visions of torching the place filled her mind.
By Gillian Fraser5 years ago in Futurism
