Fiction: The First Date

a beautiful blond exposes her beautiful legs when she gets in to the back seat of a car while her date looks on
Photo: Tony Ward, Copyright 2023

Fiction: The First Date


Text by ChatGBT


In the enchanting city of Paris, where the Eiffel Tower glistened like a jewel against the night sky, a story of romance was about to unfold. Sarah, a confident and captivating woman with a heart full of wanderlust, found herself on a night out that would forever remain etched in her memory.

Dressed in a stunning pink blazer that accentuated her curves and highlighted her blond hair, Sarah exuded an aura of allure as she strolled through the bustling streets. Her smokey eyes held a glint of mischief, and her Christian Louboutin heels clicked rhythmically against the cobblestone pavement. The night was young, and Paris was alive with possibilities.

As she made her way to a quaint bistro, Sarah’s heart raced with anticipation. She had agreed to meet a date there, someone she had been chatting with for weeks. The thrill of the unknown combined with the allure of the city’s romantic ambiance made her pulse quicken.

Once inside the bistro, Sarah’s eyes scanned the room until they landed on a handsome man sitting by the window. His smile was warm and inviting, sending a surge of excitement through her. The night was off to a promising start.

After an evening filled with laughter, delicious cuisine, and shared stories, Sarah and her date decided to take a leisurely stroll along the Seine River. The moonlight cast a gentle glow upon the water, setting the perfect backdrop for their blossoming connection.

As they reached the Pont des Arts, a famous bridge adorned with love locks, the air was thick with the promise of romance. Sarah leaned against the railing, her pink blazer billowing slightly in the night breeze, and her date stood beside her, his presence both comforting and exhilarating.

Their conversation flowed effortlessly, a symphony of shared dreams and aspirations. With each passing moment, their connection deepened. The atmosphere was electric, and the chemistry between them undeniable.

As the night wore on, Sarah extended an invitation that surprised even her. “Would you like to see something special?” she asked, her voice laced with a hint of playfulness.

Intrigued, her date agreed, and Sarah led him toward a vintage car parked nearby. Opening the door, she gestured for him to take a seat in the back. With a mischievous smile, she bent over to retrieve something from the back seat, allowing her vintage thigh-high stockings to catch his eye.

His gaze traveled up her curvy figure, his heart racing as he took in the sight before him. Sarah’s confidence was intoxicating, her allure irresistible. As she straightened up and turned to face him, their eyes locked in a passionate gaze that spoke volumes without words.

In that intimate moment, surrounded by the enchantment of Paris and the intimacy of the vintage car, Sarah and her date felt the undeniable pull of desire. The night was a canvas upon which their connection painted a masterpiece of longing and attraction.

As the clock struck midnight, Sarah and her date shared a lingering kiss, a promise of more to come. The night had begun with a casual meeting, but it had transformed into a chapter of their story that neither would ever forget.

Under the starlit sky, in the heart of Paris, two souls found each other in the most unexpected of ways—a night chat that blossomed into an unforgettable romance.

Editor’s Note: For an article by ChatGBT on gender affirming care, link here:

Bob Shell: The “Education” of America

high school student in a classroom with short skirt
Classroom. Photo: Tony Ward, Copyright 2023

Text by Bob Shell, Copyright 2023


The “Education” of America


The great writer Louis L’Amour said in his autobiography that he left school at a young age because it was interfering with his education. He lied about his age and signed on a ship’s crew. He saw the world in the merchant marine, and that real education served him in good stead when he became a writer. 

Travel — exposure to other cultures and mores is a genuine education. Yes, I didn’t drop out of high school and went on to college, but my real education came when I started traveling the world. Now, many years later, I can truthfully say I’ve visited every continent except Australia and Antarctica. I’d have visited them by now if the so-called American “justice system” hadn’t interfered with my life and education. 

Leaning is a continuing process. No one can honestly say they are “educated.” 

But, in recent years, education in the USA has taken a wrong turn, and has gone from educating to political indoctrinating. 

Yes, back in the 1960’s when I was in college, some of my instructors leaned pretty far left. Some were openly communist. But they didn’t try to force their own politics down our throats. They taught whatever they were assigned to teach, and, for the most part, left their politics at home. 

I was reminded of how much things have changed when I recently read an article in The Week, my favorite news magazine, that said that Melanie Rose Nipper, an adjunct professor at the University of Cincinnati, had given a student named Olivia Kolezyk a zero grade on a paper because Ms Kolezyk used the “outdated reference” “biological women” in the paper. Professor Nipper said she drew the line on free speech for Kolezyk “participating in a systemic harm of some kind.” 

My reaction on reading this was, “Really?” It is “participating in a systemic harm” to use the “outdated phrase” ‘biological women’ ? 

Sorry, Professor Nipper, but there are biological women. They’re human beings born with two X chromosomes. That’s not an “outdated reference,” that’s fact. I’m a biological man because I was born with one X chromosome and one Y chromosome. That’s Biology 101. That’s fact. Some people may not like that, but that does not alter its factual nature. You can’t escape basic biology! 

Recently, Liz Cheney, someone I admire very much for telling the truth at great personal risk, said that what is wrong with American politics is that we’re electing idiots. Amen to that, Liz! Apparently we’re hiring them as university professors, too. That is my opinion, which I have every right to express! 

Perhaps we’re not electing or hiring idiots, just products of the American “education system.” 

I’m housed with many young men in their 20’s, 30’s and early 40’s who graduated from highschool. Their ignorance of basic knowledge is profound. 

I had a discussion not long ago with a younger man who said the Earth couldn’t be round, because if it was, “the people on the bottom would fall off.” When I tried to explain in simplified terms about how mass generates gravitational pull, and that the Earth’s mass pulls us toward its center, he was lost. “Don’t they teach physics in your highschool these days?” I asked him. No they didn’t. 

Another thing these younger men are completely ignorant of is basic geography. Ask them to find any country on a map and they’re lost. Foreign countries are all “somewhere over there.” It’s common when we’re watching TV news for one of them to ask me, “Where’s that at?” when another country is mentioned. If I answer something like, “It’s between France and Spain,” that’s meaningless to them. These men are not stupid, in fact I’d rate them above average in intelligence in most cases, but their knowledge base is very limited. In many cases that’s why they’re in here with me. 

America is broken, my friends, and unless we fix it, we’re headed for big trouble. The young people in the rest of the world are better educated, and the dumbing down of our younger generations will surely catch up with us.


About The Author: Bob Shell is a professional photographer, author and former editor in chief of Shutterbug Magazine. He is currently serving a 35 year sentence for involuntary manslaughter for the death of Marion Franklin, one of his former models.  He is serving the 15th year of his sentence at Pocahontas State Correctional Facility, Virginia. To read Bob Shell’s, first essay on civil war, click here:

Fiction: The Tryst

French couple in Paris hotel meeting to have sex
Photo: Tony Ward, Copyright 2023

Text by ChatGBT


The Tryst


In the heart of Paris, the city of love and romance, a young French woman named Genevieve stood nervously in front of the ornate drapes that hung in the hotel room. She had agreed to meet her lover, Jean-Michel, for a secret tryst. As she stood waiting, her heart raced with anticipation and excitement.

Jean-Michel had sent her a gift, a beautiful set of lingerie in black satin with matching red bra and panties. She felt like a goddess as she slipped them on, the silkiness of the fabric gliding over her skin.

As she stood waiting, she heard the sound of Jean-Michel’s key turning in the lock. Her breath caught in her throat as he walked in, a look of desire in his eyes.

Without a word, he pulled out his camera and began snapping photos of her. Genevieve felt a rush of excitement as she struck a pose, her lips pouting seductively, while seated at the rooms vanity.


Beautiful young french woman seated at a vanity at a hotel in Paris wearing red lingerie
Photo: Tony Ward, Copyright 2023


Jean-Michel captured every moment, the passion and lust palpable in the air. As she posed, Genevieve felt a sense of liberation, as if all her inhibitions had melted away.

Afterwards, they spent the night exploring each other’s bodies, the photos serving as a memento of their intimate moment together.

As Genevieve left the hotel the next morning, she knew that the memory of that night would stay with her forever. The photographs would serve as a reminder of the passion and desire she shared with Jean-Michel, a moment in time frozen forever on film. 


Beautiful french woman kneeling on a bed in an old Paris hotel checking out her breasts
Photo: Tony Ward, Copyright 2023

Amsterdam: The Deck

Two dutch women of different generations pose nude on Amsterdam rooftop
The Roof Deck. Photo: Tony Ward, Copyright 2023

Photography and Text by Tony Ward, Copyright 2023


Amsterdam: The Deck


Whenever it was a sunny day which at times seemed too few and far between, Amsterdam street cafes and private decks were the place to visit with friends.  When the sun was out, everyone was always in a good mood,  no matter what personal circumstances may have brought gloom and doom on any given day. My friends used to say whenever Tony is in town the sun is shining.  I was lucky that way.

On this particular sunny afternoon, old friends from different generations were amongst the first native women in Holland I came to know.  Ellen, the woman being photographed with a flip phone, owned a lovely lingerie shop called Female & Partners in Amsterdam’s city center in 1999.  I was referred to visit the shop when I called upon a stylist and asked  for a recommendation for a store that sold unique lingerie sets as I was preparing for a new series of photographs for a magazine article about my erotic work in Europe.  When I entered the exclusive women’s boutique the young woman taking the picture was behind the counter.  Not quite like the way she looks in this picture but close.  She had the most adorable face and Dutch accent that I couldn’t help but ask to photograph her while she was behind the register. From that point on we kept in touch and would see each other around town within our circle of friends.


two hot dutch women on an Amsterdam roof top one is naked
Sita and Ellen, Amsterdam 2003. Photo: Tony Ward, Copyright 2023


Four years later in 2003, Ellen, the woman being photographed in these pictures was the original owner of the shop.  I didn’t meet her on the first day of my visit years earlier, but we later met through friends and enjoyed each others company.  Whenever I was in town it was a delight to meet up with Ellen for drinks and hear all of the latest insider gossip. She was truly a free spirit and exuded a certain joie de vivre. She defined Dutch beauty at any age.  I can’t recall why Ellen and Sita came over to the apartment that day.  Maybe it was purely just to enjoy the sun. get naked and take a few pictures with my new toy, a Nikon Coolpix digital camera.  These are amongst the first images I produced with the new digital medium. Nowadays, I’m using a pocket size Sony mirrorless camera.


Portrait of two dutch women on Amsterdam rooftop. One is nude
Photo: Tony Ward, Copyright 2023


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A.H. Scott: Night, Angel

Portrait of young woman with black long hair wearing sheer nightgown
Photo: Tony Ward, Copyright 2022

Poetry by A.H. Scott, Copyright 2022


Night, Angel


Call me Serenity

With charm to disarm, here I am for you

None of what we long for comes out of the air so thin

Casting a spell

You know me so well

I move through the night ever so sprite

Now, here I am with you

Something it was, something it is

Back when our eyes met for the first time, there was a delicious reason and parallel rhyme

Yeah, it’s the way she moves

Slick glide of mercury across the floor she is

Knock at her pad came after dark

Under his arm was a white box with a bow

Oh, I’m a curious woman who wants to know

What could it be that he brought for me?

A few suppers here and there is beyond a simple blind date that is ever so rare

Getting to know one another has amplified my horizons in such varied ways

Oh, a tender gentleman puts me in a haze

But, I’m not silly to think that it’s only my visual that puts a guy like him on the brink

I’ve got that magic inside of me that illuminates in special ways

Soft melody plays

Not a cover-up is this gift, as my body slowly shifts within it

Delicate lace bow I release in a sensual tease with thumb and index finger is a breeze

His hands cradle gossamer the color of night upon my flesh, as I offer a humble sigh

My bedroom is my sanctuary and we are here together

Fragrant aroma of cherry blossom fills the air

As you hold me in those strong arms that are so dear, I nibble and whisper gently in your ear

You know me

Yes, I know her

She is tranquility that I never thought I would find

I am the man who she treats ever so kind

Tender words from those lips and actions that are mutual fascination is the magic we share

Gossamer vanishes to the floor

I want her more and more

Hardening as I do, it is when I’m with her that there is that lustful follow through

Soft hands of mine touch along his expanded crotch

Oh God, I want him inside of me so much

I guess I am a woman of a blissful spell, cuz’ I can get such a sexy man to swell

Not tooting my own horn, but there’s going to be more than one grind between us from after midnight to the coming dawn

Hands make their moves with rapid speed

This night is going well, indeed

Blush upon my lips is like a siren song

I picked up on her signs, as on the bed we climbed

She below me and my flesh entering slowly at first

Deeper and deeper we are making our connection with such untamed thirst

Sensuality’s spring is about to burst

Back and forth, I take that ride upon him

Feelin’ good, feelin’ groovy

Damn, this man is really knowin’ me now

Her body flourishes with every point of contact we make, as I am about to make a fast break

We hold onto each other, as what comes about comes

Both of us are heady in our passion as the room seems to spin around our bodies in a mystical way

As if we are imbued with the essence of falling leaves, we listlessly lay upon the bed

Strands of my raven hair are slightly entangled through my fingers as I touch his chest and rest my head against it

I hear his heart beating like a snare drum

Wow, what a torrid duo we’ve become

Silently I wonder if he thinks I was just a bit too wild

Midnight holds magic in ways neither needed to voice

Being with her was a delightfully humbling choice

I lifted my head from off his chest, kissed him and was lost in a sweet caress

As I look at your softness, your feathers are invisible to most who gaze at the woman before my eyes

Yet, I see them as I look at you….

She tenderly smiles, “I know this is true”

He whispered, “Night, angel….”


About The Author: A.H. Scott is a poet based in New York City and senior contributor to Tony Ward’s blog.  For additional articles by A.H. Scott, click here: