D. Sean

Joined January 2023

0 stories

Bio

A storyteller, who has a penchant for run-on sentences and whose stories are embellished, so I write to become better and to amuse myself. Most of my work is stream of conscious, there's minimal planning.

Stories (9/0)

Unwitting Cuckold
I loved laying in bed with Jamar. The quiet moments where we catch our breath and he holds me in his arms are the best moments of my week, other than the times my kids say they love me and give me a big hug just before they ask for money.
By D. Sean3 months ago in Filthy
Dave & Busters
I walked up to her table, the seventh of twenty tables that I'd be visiting that evening. The first six were forgettable. All of them were nice women, four of them Jacksonville natives, one from Iowa, and one from Cuba by way of Miami. That last one was the most attractive, but the least interesting. Her longest sentence was three words: "I'm not sure."
By D. Seanabout a year ago in Confessions
Wasco
He had a nifty sleight of hand. Rodrigo, or Rigo as he was known by his friends, had stolen several wallets and purses of visitors to his island nation over the past five years. Only twenty-two, it was as if he had been bestowed the gift of stealing by the gods. He had never been caught and he had Francs, Euros, Dollars, Yen, and even Pesos in his souvenir drawer. He spent only what he needed and the rest he saved for the day that he retired. He'd heard of retirement planning from some couple from Philadelphia when he was 18 and decided that it was a good idea, right after he stole $125 from the wife's purse. Their money made up the initial deposit into his retirement fund.
By D. Seanabout a year ago in Fiction
Does He Even Date Black Women?
"Does he even date black women?" She quipped. Her question was met with blank stares, a couple of shrugs and a meek, "I think so?"
By D. Seanabout a year ago in Poets
Tattooed On My Brain
When I was growing up, I knew so few people that had tattoos. It seemed like the only people I knew were in the army or rode a motorcycle. It wasn't until college that I knew any civilians with tattoos. This guy I went to college with, Ricky, got a tattoo of this big painting from our dorm on his arm. The painting was of a child smiling. It was a huge picture hanging in one of the lounges. I would've never thought about making that into a tat, but it looked good. After that I started seeing more and more people with tattoos. One of my classmates had a butterfly tattoo etched on her cleavage. I only saw it once when she was wearing a bikini top on a particularly warm spring day late sophomore year. Other people had lions on their chest, ankle tattoos and barbed wire on their bicep. More of my friends started getting tattoos and when I looked around and I noticed more and more people with tattoos. It went from being on the fringe of society to mainstream by the time I was out of college. At this point I feel like I'm one of the only people without one.
By D. Seanabout a year ago in Filthy
2 Weeks Since Shelby
It had been two weeks since Shelby had dumped Doug. He mostly lay across the couch in our small, dumpy beach house in Venice. A gross patch of thick brown and bleach blonde hair covered his face and neck. The living room smelled like old pizza and stale taco meat.
By D. Seanabout a year ago in Filthy
Ugliest Baby
Rosemarie and her daughter Mali prepared to get on the bus and return home after a trying day. When she had left her small apartment that morning, Rosemarie was full of hope. She had dressed Mali in the cutest outfit that she had recently bought from a small consignment shop run by the cutest old lady from Colombia. She spoke no English, but she communicated with Rosemarie, who spoke no Spanish, exquisitely. Rosemarie had found two or three outfits in a matter of minutes and paid in cash, rushing home quickly to have Mali model them. She took pictures of her daughter wearing the clothes, posted them on Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter asking people which outfit she should put on her daughter for their day running errands and visiting friends. There weren't many responses, on any of the platforms, but there did seem to be a consensus, put baby Mali in the blue and orange jumper over a white onesie. Rosemarie, being attuned to her followers, agreed with the choice.
By D. Seanabout a year ago in Fiction
Stranded In Denver
The announcement of canceled flights for the day came after four hours of delays for James Morgan. He slung his backpack over his shoulder and headed for the airport exit. His trip home from a seminar in Phoenix would be delayed by at least a day. James took out his iPhone.
By D. Seanabout a year ago in Filthy
The Salesman
"Good morning, sir or madam, my name is Joe Banks, wouldn’t you like to buy a product that’ll change the way you go to the bathroom?" he said to himself, practicing his introduction. Joe had been working door-to-door sales for only three weeks, but every day brought more and more discouragement. His wife, Maureen, had been his best cheerleader to this point, but today she put her foot down and told him that he needed to make a sale soon or he would need to take that job at her dad’s business.
By D. Seanabout a year ago in Fiction

D. Sean

Bio

Stories .css-19zxm0z-Text{display:inline-block;color:var(--text-default-mute);}(9/0)

Unwitting Cuckold

Dave & Busters

Wasco

Does He Even Date Black Women?

Tattooed On My Brain

2 Weeks Since Shelby

Ugliest Baby

Stranded In Denver

The Salesman

Stories (9/0)