Updated Frequently
June 15, 2010
War Games
“Under Stalin,” Sergei gritted out as he put his shoulders under the spray again, “I would have had you flogged.”
“Oh, I am sure of it,” Cherevkin said, amusement coloring his tone. “In fact, I don’t doubt you would have insisted on seeing to it personally. And liked it.”
Sergei’s head snapped up. “Watch yourself, comrade.”
“I was enjoying watching you. Pity you stopped,” the colonel answered. And he started fiddling with the control for the showers.
He growled. Couldn’t help it, an actual growl, as he stared at the bastard. The spray fluctuated on his body, hot then cold, strong then weak, as Arkady toyed with the water pressure and smiled at him.
Read “War Games”
June 08, 2010
Fiction
For Love or Pay
He found my pussy, the slickened lips that proclaimed my passion. It was his turn to yelp, “Hey!” as he jerked his hand away. “You’re a girl!”
“Tell me about it,” I murmured, as confused as he was by the sudden turn of events.
Read “For Love or Pay”
June 02, 2010
Fiction
Soft Landing in the Tropics
Unfortunately, even under my blue, at-home-now sweat pants, the warm feel of Rita’s bare-to-the-hip leg draped over mine means otherwise. I want her to know I’m glad she’s here. With my unpinned foot, I begin to lightly stroke her exposed thigh. Rita sighs and continues to read.
There’s always a point of no-return in the middle of something you know you shouldn’t be doing. If that something is between a man and his step-daughter, at its apex, a gentleman step-dad excuses himself and walks away. Instead of using it to walk, my curious left foot slides higher, plowing the slippery boxers along the curve of her, hoping for a peek at some panties.
Read “Soft Landing in the Tropics”
May 26, 2010
Fiction
The Great White
The man behind the counter said it was new in. The large conical shaped snout, the upper and lower lobes on the tail fin, the side gills, they are all anatomically correct. The rows of razor sharp teeth have been replaced with soft and pliable plastic incisors, each one acting as a stimulator similar to those found on cock rings. But the best part of all, so the man said, is the dorsal fin. Inside the shark is a tiny motor that runs off batteries. By pressing a small button on the tail section, the motor sends little vibrations to the tip of the dorsal fin. Once the head section of the shark has been fully inserted, the fin is perfectly placed to tickle the clitoris. As well as being arguably the most well known predatory fish in the ocean, nature has designed the arguably the best ergonomically satisfying dildo on the market.
Read “The Great White”
May 18, 2010
Fiction
Broom Closet
It took a little bit of cunning to get out of “Serenity Now — Step One” class, but since I’ve been such a goody-goody I’d racked up some trust points and the instructor bought my story that I was feeling queasy from weaning off my meds. The truth was I was feeling really horny and wasn’t about to pass up broom closet sex.
I went back to my room to give my lie some credibility, and to change into a skirt and take off my panties, having the passing thought that what if he just wants to talk?
In a broom closet? Not likely, dummy.
Read “Broom Closet”
May 12, 2010
Fiction
I Wish You Were Braille
I sat up and kissed him hard; part of my brain wanted to take a chunk out, to consume him, chew him up and swallow. We knelt on the bed facing each other. Finally I could reach his ears, his neck; I ran my tongue in the hollows of his collarbones and followed the thumping vein in his neck up to the back of his ear. His hands were all over me, under my clothes, on top of them, like they were another layer of skin that felt just as good to touch as my bareness underneath.
Read “I Wish You Were Braille”
May 05, 2010
Fiction
For Loki
We had a few more rounds and then went to Room 8. The room had no sink to wash the dirt from my nails. Not even a toilet. Just a bottle of disinfectant lotion on the nightstand along with a roll of paper towels. The wastebasket overflowed.
She asked me what I wanted.
“My dog back.”
“What?”
“I need to be held, and then I want to smack your ass.”
She told me the price and I paid it. Keeping the big bills out of view.
Read “For Loki”
April 28, 2010
Fiction
Three
We spread old blankets on the floor, and he traces unknown patterns against my skin with quiet focus until we are both dizzier with need than with our respective intoxicants. He rolls to his back and lets me take him slowly, arms splayed above his head, vulnerable and decadent.
Read “Three”
April 21, 2010
Fiction
In the Stacks
There could have been better places to do it. I knew that. Sure. I know a lot of things, but processing information is always a little bit harder when you’re pressed up against a shelf in the stacks with a girl making sure you stay there, all curves slotting into your own curves like a fucking puzzle piece, all black hair and mint gum and hands rough and chapped from the cold wind outside.
Read “In the Stacks”
April 13, 2010
Fiction
Forgetting
“What are you doing, you bad boy?”
It was a situation in which a slip of the tongue was par for the course. So he pretended he’d misheard the first time.
“Oh, Greg,” she repeated. The sound was not much more than a breeze from her lips.
He was about to say, “You mean Tom.”
But then she said: “Greg, you’re such a flirt. You know I’m crazy about you, don’t you.”
Read “Forgetting”
April 07, 2010
Fiction
The Quotidian Nightmare
He thought of Marco’s lip ring grazing her clit and his tan hands gripping her thighs. He thought of Lakshmi flushed with the freshness of the scene, all too willing to let Marco squeeze her breasts and pinch her nipples as much as he liked while he fucked her, sticking his dick in her deep — undoubtedly deeper than John could go, as middling in size as he was. He thought of Marco’s lean fingers in her mouth and his teeth catching her earlobe, of his cock pressing into the exact same space John’s was pressing, of his cum filling her, and at that moment he shocked himself by muttering, “Fuck yes, I want him to fuck you, be a whore, fuck you right up like a whore,” and coming — like a collision, like a detonation, like a suicide in reverse.
Read “The Quotidian Nightmare”
March 09, 2010
Fiction
Penitence as a Perpetual Motion Machine
All of this part is scripted. All of this part — the lecture, the position, the implement — is the same every time. The content of the lecture isn’t perfect, but it’s the closest she could come to what really happened without saying too much. It took Mary some time to find a . . . professional . . . who was willing to work with a script, even a short one. But Sister Catherine seems to have some genuine affinity for the script. She says the lines with passion and intensity; she wields the implement with grim determination. And Sister Catherine seems also to appreciate the free hand that she has with Mary once the scripted part is completed.
Read “Penitence as a Perpetual Motion Machine”
March 02, 2010
Fiction
Interview With A Porn Star
I was used to having sex with women minutes after being introduced. As actors we tried to keep a sense of humor and fun about the situation. It was professional, not sexy. That’s why they call it acting. You’ve just got to sell it for the camera. But the interview with Daphne was sexy. She was beautiful and intelligent and I was seismically attracted her. I swear, if someone had said, “Decide right now, based on the little you know, if you want to marry her” I would have said Yes.
Read “Interview With A Porn Star”
February 24, 2010
Fiction
Piggy
“Hold that there,” she said to me, yanking me away from the car and pushing me into the alley she’d parked alongside. “Now, if you can’t follow the simplest directions, I don’t think you should really be displayed in public, do you?”
Read “Piggy”
December 30, 2009
Fiction
High Noon
“Doctor by day, dominatrix by night.” I can see the headline, the tacky picture of a discipline queen, whip in one hand, stethoscope in the other. After all, why not? I’m good at my day job. People undress at my command everyday, passive and grateful. “Whatever you say, doctor,” they say, “You’re the doctor, you tell me.” “Thank you, doctor,” they generally say sincerely afterwards, “that was a thorough exam all right.” I have them bending over and spreading for me all day. Why not take it to the night, spice it up? Probably make more money without the insurance hassles. The doctor was definitely IN. In charge, in control, in the mood.
Read “High Noon”
December 11, 2009
Fiction
Anything Can Happen
He had a craggy face, prematurely lined, no doubt from hard living. He was wiry but muscular, like he could jump a fence, chase a rabbit and skin it for dinner, no charge. I wondered what he’d look like naked. Then I wondered why I was so sex-obsessed.
Read “Anything Can Happen”
November 24, 2009
Fiction
Boilermaker
Two bottles of something cold and two shots with the beer — rear booth. No words. Not at first. Then, “Your father drank boilermakers.”
Parker nodded.
“He could put them away.” Parker fingered the lighter in his pocket. He could feel the belt around his waist. So when Clint touched the buckle under the table, he shivered.
Read “Boilermaker”
November 17, 2009
Fiction
El Salvador Will Win
As she rode him, she found her voice. A stream of Spanish tumbled from her lips, rising and falling with her excitement. Josh could have concentrated to pick out words or phrases, but he was happy to let the cascade of language stay foreign, exotic, mysterious. For all he knew, she was telling him her life story — her role in the civil war, her pain, her loss, her redemption in the arms of a kind stranger. But, truthfully, he didn’t want to know. Knowing so little was part of what made the whole adventure feel like an adventure.
Read “El Salvador Will Win”
November 11, 2009
Fiction
Member Patient Satisfaction
I take a big breath for her and suddenly I’m hit by a scent of ginger and cardamom. I swear it’s coming from a few drops of sweat right between those magnificent tits I’m trying not to look at. I don’t know whether to report my new symptoms of dizziness and tachycardia.
Read “Member Patient Satisfaction”
October 28, 2009
Fiction
Spider Lines
My wife and I took our time undressing her. I’d like to tell you how strong my hands were and how the girl trembled beneath my touch. But no. My hands shook. My fingertips were cold.
Read “Spider Lines”
October 21, 2009
Fiction
Waiting for a Train
He held out his hand. We left our luggage on the platform and found a grassy spot behind the station. I was painfully conscious of how much more I knew than the last time I’d had him, and how little it was going to matter. He took me on my back, wrapping a hand tight around my mouth, letting me chew on the flesh. I absorbed his heat into me. He made no sound when he came. He never did. I couldn’t even tell.
Read “Waiting for a Train”
October 14, 2009
Fiction
Catherine's Wheel
When David plucked up the courage to open his eyes he saw that Catherine was back at the easel again, resuming her work, cold and professional, as if her treatment of him had been nothing out of the ordinary. She resumed her low unconscious growl of concentration: a growl punctuated every so often by a shudder that ran through her body before she continued her work. He knew that his cock was erect before him, but he fought the impulse to look down, not wanting to see the alien object protruding from it.
Read “Catherine's Wheel”
October 08, 2009
Fiction
Doing the Math
And though it’s hours to go until midnight, these two are on each other as if they were only a few minutes away from the privacy of their bedroom. They stroke and pet while juggling drinks and canapes in the depths of Jacqueline’s sofa. They discreetly goose each other at the sideboard, and they sit half in and half out of each other’s laps at the Scrabble table. Lips go to ears, and toes to calves. All the while, they’re alert and gregarious, and they relish the tension of being in public and yet being intensely horny.
Read “Doing the Math”
October 01, 2009
Fiction
Open Chords
It’s in a dive of a bar that I find Johnny Tyger. What a stupid stage name. His ridiculously long and thick digits form chords in the most awkward ways. And yet, as I watch him play, I lose sight entirely of the vivid discussion, an emerging and innovative system for rating oral sex performances, that my girlfriends are engaged in.
Read “Open Chords”
September 24, 2009
Fiction
When Lacy LeTush Went Blue, Blue, Blue! (part 2)
Lacy was down on her hands and knees wearing nothing but fishnet stockings and marabou-fluffed heels. She spun onto her back, scissored up and writhed her way to the chair. Never got used to the smooth look, eh? Here, pal, get a faceful.
Read “When Lacy LeTush Went Blue, Blue, Blue! (part 2)”
September 21, 2009
Fiction
When Lacy LeTush Went Blue, Blue, Blue! (part 1)
“Gorgeous!” came the voice. “Absolutely gorgeous! I especially liked the chair-schtupping, dollface. Sometimes they say we’re goin’ too blue, but I got one thing to say to that, people — ain’t no such thing as too blue. Va-va-va-voom, miss, you’re a tsatskeh if I ever saw one, if you don’t mind my saying. A maidel mit a klaidel.”
Read “When Lacy LeTush Went Blue, Blue, Blue! (part 1)”
August 28, 2009
Fiction
Christian Domestic Discipline
The literature says that marital relations will often follow a punishment. It assures her that this doesn't mean anything sick, that it simply shows the husband's natural eagerness to be intimate with his wife once his rightful authority has been restored and their relationship has been returned to God's vision for marriage. But she's starting to wonder. He never made love to her like this before they started the discipline.
Read “Christian Domestic Discipline”
August 19, 2009
Fiction
Tasting the Apple
This was a medical procedure, she had said. But I had seen the faces of the women leaving the room. Now I knew what had made them look so.
This was not medicine. Medicine could never feel as this felt.
This was sin.
It was sin, and I knew it.
Read “Tasting the Apple”
August 14, 2009
Fiction
The Truth Hurts
Kenny stood rapt for a few minutes, watching Tiffany get it on both ends. It was only when Con pulled out and shot his load across Tiffany's face that he stopped it. Sex was one thing, but the come shot had lowered it to the level of porn, and good Mormon boys don't watch porn.Read “The Truth Hurts”
August 02, 2009
Fiction
Good Vibrations
Chad pictured himself riding the gray- green of the Pacific, balanced there in the eternity between freedom and death. He opened his eyes. Bobby was frighteningly beautiful now. He reached up and unbuttoned the stranger's Levis. A big, hard, uncut dick sprang forth.
Read “Good Vibrations”
July 24, 2009
Fiction
Confessions in a Small Room
He brought his chair close enough that our knees touched. It was better than the back seat of the Pontiac.
“Okay . . .” I said.
“Do you kiss? You and Kevin?”
“Yes, Father. Is that wrong?”
“No. Not at all. It’s what kissing leads to which concerns me. It’s the touching.”
Read “Confessions in a Small Room”
July 16, 2008
Fiction
The Tower
I watched her glistening eyes come towards me, felt her tender lips against mine. I heard myself let out a little moan and felt my clit swell against my wishes. Then the kiss was over and the witch stepped quickly down the hall. I trotted after her, terrified of being left alone. She stopped at the door, her hand turning the knob. Looking back at me with an expression that seemed to be both tender and mocking, she said, "I will call, Rapunzel. Until then, be good." She stepped through the doorway, closed the door, and I heard the lock click from the outside. She was gone.
Read “The Tower”
July 01, 2008
Fiction
New Wine and Old Skins
I climb into the bath and slide myself under the stream of water, tentatively at first, then opening my legs wider and wider. I discover muscles in my pelvis I didn’t know I had, and flex them. Planting my feet against the shower wall, I hoist myself up, arching my back to meet the steady cascade. I rotate my hips faster against the torrent of water. "John," I whisper, "John." I picture his face, his bearded bristly face. I imagine running my hands through his hair, pushing his head down, down, level to my cunt, and him licking me clean.
Read “New Wine and Old Skins”
May 14, 2008
Fiction
The Scarf
“And I’ll release the security footage to the local news,” he replied. “Do you want that?”
Dani made no answer. There was no point, and she wasn’t sure if she really wanted him to stop. Methodically, he frisked her, taking his time. His hands alternately burned or chilled her; she couldn’t tell if his touch was abnormally hot, or her skin was. His hands slid under the curve of her breasts, then up; cupping, squeezing, stroking her through the lace of her bra. Her back arched before she knew it, pressed her ass and her cuffed hands back against him as he stepped forward. Her fingers traced the hard ridge of his cock through the thin fabric of his trousers, then squeezed once before he stepped back.
Read “The Scarf”
October 03, 2007
Fiction
Cocksucker
“Yes,” he says, and I can tell by the huskiness in his throat that he means it. “It’s nasty. A girl isn’t supposed to have a cock. She isn’t supposed to get turned on watching me suck it. But baby, I can tell you’d get turned on. You like to watch me, and I want to do it for you.”
I take a step toward him. One more step, and my little purple dick will be right in his face.
Read “Cocksucker”
