Helena Settimana

The Space Between

I make coffee in my kitchen while the wan light of early morning on the lake filters through the louvers of the Venetian blinds in the cottage. It's the last of my Blue Mountain, a gift from the griot, Kayode 'Kayo' Mackenzie of Hilton Head Island. I want it for...

read more

Highway 69

The road slithers like a black-topped grass snake across the rolling hills and farms of the maple and oak South, rising and falling, its yellow lines marking its back, its sloping sides. It hurtles through the first pine and birch of the North, where pink granite...

read more


I fled to the A'dam in August, to escape the madness and rain of London. It is now early autumn, and I sit with the tall windows open, looking out at the canal: the streets are dusty and littered with dry leaves and bits of paper. I have been writing and painting in a...

read more


"Please Nona, please Nona, please Nona, please." Shit. I hate that kinda talk. Beggin' for it; whining, wheedling, like the world's gonna end if the bastard doesn't get him some. Not from me, no way. That isn't my style. I'd never be rid of a guy like that. Give him...

read more

Flashers by Helena Settimana

The Other Shoe © 2008 The Other Shoe "Hand it over, your Highness!" The duke, flanked by a pair of burly guards, confronted the naked prince, who lay curled up in a ball on his bed, clutching something to his groin. "No!" the prince shouted back. "It's mine. She left...

read more

Luis and the Boy Toy

I stared down at my bobbing cock, and felt my blood rush and the moisture come; a slow leak that I felt sure would be dripping from me in shining tendrils within moments. Looking at that big old thing was such a powerful turn-on. Luis thought so too. His pants were...

read more

St. Lucy’s Day

Gunnar Torvaldson rode in his cutter, his horse pulling with its head down against the combined weight of sleigh and occupant. Lamps swung on its sides. He watched the horse's haunches rise and fall, the crystalline air blowing from its nostrils. It was mid-December,...

read more

So Much Better

My lover lies on his side on the sofa with his hands wedged between his legs. He has grown soft in the middle and his skin is laced with silvery marks across his ass, belly and shoulders. The marks look like scars, and when I trace them with the tips of my fingers the...

read more

Five Fingers

My pussy is stuffed full of contradictions. The last set of photographs got to me: I sent her out on an errand so I could deal with it. Midori has green eyes and blonde hair, hips like a boy and tits like the buds of a child. She's older than I am by a couple of...

read more


Four Haiku by Helena Settimana cherry blossom spring kisses under budding trees youth aches for summer fragrant sunstruck tans scent of the lake shore rising rowan tree in bloom my thoughts fly southward earth and wood scent of your cock rustling russet ground skirts...

read more

Treasure Chest Categories

Treasure Chest Authors

Treasure Chest Archives

Pin It on Pinterest