I am a ‘Mature,’ by Literotica’s definition; I am living with a nasty thinking writer captured inside of me. The writer is mentally female and can create straight and special stories. She was named ‘Dale Jane Hen-Party’ by my family for three seasons when I was twelve years old. I am now eighty-one.

I would sit at the kitchen table and rant in a constant, flowing, not punctuated, little boy voice, delivering a complete story while Mom fixed dinner. I cannot recall those childhood events, but I told DJH to disappear when I was twelve and stopped sharing or allowing her to share my life since she brought so much teasing and ridicule that I cried almost daily.

It wasn’t until a cardiac event that I decided to talk again to DJH; it was over seventy years later. I was on a ventilator, completely interfaced with the hospital through tubes, wires, and attachments, monitoring everything. I was thinking I was not going to live after this hospital stay. But the stent installation saved me, and I am fit and fragile here.

My name here is ExperiencedStoryteller, and it needs to be Dale Jane Hen-Party, so watch for a switcharoo or whatever I can do with the folks here at Literotica to post forward as Dale Jane Hen-Party.

The family and childhood ridicule was so severe that I ceased telling anyone. I rarely would tell my brother the things DJH thought using my brain.

I have discovered Dale Jane Hen-party (DJH) lurks in my life again. I say this again because when I was entering puberty, aged twelve, she mysteriously began to reappear in my mind as a storyteller. My family ridiculed me for having her constantly in my life; at least, she was in my thinking. I wrote one story and secretly left it with Mr. Fein in the English Department at Sacramento City College. He didn’t know where it came from because I left a typed note and typed envelope to disguise myself. I asked on the note that he post the grade on his corkboard, as I wanted to remain anonymous until the story was graded.

In anticipation of seeing the grade, I searched his corkboard, but as I was searching, Mr. Fein asked me from a distance if I was looking for a grade.

I was caught. He called me into his classroom and immediately began to ask who really wrote that paper and accused me of plagiarism. Then I explained about Dale Jane Hen-Party being the author.

He asked me to prove it as he handed me the paper with a giant red A grade and ‘Perfect!’ Scrawled across the front.

A convincing oration caused him to ask me to write it out and hand it in the next day for another grade. Mr Fein taught me not to fear DJH. have been a reader for over 75 years and a 'writer’ since 1964 (Viet Nam); my first actual writing of Adult stories started in 2004, I believe. That rolled into my best and too much of my worst ’writing’ these last years. My stories are a mosaic, a compendium, a thesaurus, and a brain-tripping gathering of feelings, words, and ideas. My eighty years of experiences, imaginings, fantasies, and ideas have been used for my stories. I have observed the airline wreck ideas of other authors, and no-too-few of my own involvements have been catastrophic wrecks of either a ship or a train. I do not identify truth from fiction, so I claim to be a fiction writer.

24 April 2022: Comments are welcome. I have gotten a new stretch of time to live, so will get more posted. I have been given a longer life through meds, so I will attempt to post my library of stories before the end really comes. I have had some warning shots across the bow.

17 AUG 2022: Still dodging the terminal date and seem healthy outwardly, at least.

I have discovered a trove of older stories to clean up and post.

NOV 2022: I reviewed and edited this page. It was a bigger mess before.

I have been reading for over 75 years and writing stories and recollections since Viet Nam (1962-1966). I started writing my life stories in 2004, I believe.

That rolled into writing my best and too much of my worst for these last 15 years or more. My erotic stories are a mosaic, a compendium, a thesaurus, and a brain-tripping gathering of feelings, ideas, and words. I, at eighty, am full of experiences and imaginings, along with fantasies and Ideas improved upon that I have observed as trainwreck ideas by other authors, and no too few self involvements. I do not identify truth from fiction, so I claim to be a fiction writer.

24 April 2022:

Comments are welcome. I have gotten a new stretch of time living, so will get more posted. I have been given a longer life through meds, so I will attempt to post my library of stories before the end really comes. I have had the warning shot across the bow.

17 AUG 2021: Still dodging the terminal date and seem healthy outwardly, at least.

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