<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8" standalone="yes"?><rss version="2.0" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/"><channel><title>Monoglove on Gromet's Plaza Archive</title><link>/tags/monoglove/</link><description>Recent content in Monoglove on Gromet's Plaza Archive</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en-us</language><lastBuildDate>Sat, 30 May 2026 20:13:47 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="/tags/monoglove/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>Morning Chores</title><link>/stories/2018/05/12/morning-chores/</link><pubDate>Sat, 12 May 2018 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2018/05/12/morning-chores/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Jim&amp;rsquo;s room had no windows. It was a small room with naked walls, and a cold, hard floor. Jim had been awake for a while now, though he could never be certain how long it had really been. The only
light emanated from the small gap under the only door and to Jim&amp;rsquo;s eyes, it was bright, almost blinding. It made him very nearly certain that it was daytime already.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Peeking</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/peeking/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/peeking/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;T’was the night before Christmas and all through the house, not a creature was stirring. . .no, that was not true at all, Brandy thought to herself. She was stirring alright. She writhed on the couch bound beside her boyfriend Grant who was gently petting her blonde hair. The little gel vibrator nestled all snug in her sex was pulsing little rhythms of pleasure when Grant wanted it to. So far, he hadn’t given into her whines pleading him to send her over the edge. It was her own fault. He had caught her.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>