Metamorphosis.

I awoke one morning to discover I had been transformed into a human.

It was a remarkable thing, and as I rolled over in the bed I found I had two hands each with five fingers, two legs and feet each with five toes, and a taste in my mouth that was akin to a smoldering camp fire. I wiggled my appendages, yawned deeply and stretched my new body as long and deeply as it could go. Between my legs was a cock which was curiously hard and the cool sheets against it felt like a summer breeze at night time.

My eyes could open and close on their own, and when I pursed my new lips a sound came out like the cry of an unfamiliar bird. I touched my face. Then my chest. I ran my fingers over my muscles and fat, marveling at the contours of skin and hair. I touched the hard thing between my legs to find it too was soft and firm at the same time, and a strange sensation of light shot down my leg in an instant.

I smelled coffee although I’m not sure how I knew what it was, and my stomach growled with a new hunger. The room was full of clothes I knew I should cover my body with, and yet when I finally stood and stared at my new self in the mirror I felt no desire to cover up at all. I turned this way and that marveling at hair and spots. I leaned left and right watching skin stretch and rolls form where they had not been.

I climbed back into the bed on all fours. I arched my back and shook my head. It took long moments to realize that the sound coming from my throat was laughter.

I smiled in the early morning light. I shook myself one more time before I fell onto my back, the laughter growing stronger until it was indistinguishable from tears.

— gny

Tags: new york prose

lapeaudelamemoire said: Thank you for your writing. After years of following you, your erotica remains the best kind that I've read.

Thank you so much for sending that. I haven’t been writing as much smut this summer, although hopefully I’ll get back to it soon. But it’s nice to know that it’s being enjoyed.

-gny

Guess what’s happening again soon? 

Guess what’s happening again soon? 

He Knows Nothing

Out of all the people I know I am the least kind to myself.

 

I have never met another human, or dog for the matter, who would say the things to me that I do on a regular basis. I have never met anyone who could look so closely into my deepest fears and concerns and push and prod until my whole self is raw and open. And I’ve never met another soul who could so casually and fully invicerate my good qualities with a laugh and a joke.

 

But I’m learning to tell myself to fuck off. I’m learning to look in the mirror and shut down the voice that tells me I’m less than perfect, and I’m learning to laugh right back at him with a grin, reminding him that he knows nothing.


It is hard. And it takes time. But if I know anything about myself, I know that I’m good at this shit.

disgustingnovel:

Two days later I got an email from Talia. I didn’t have a computer - I swear I was last - but I checked my Hotmail on Martin’s on a regular basis in case some fucking technophile dropped me a note. As my luck would have it, I had exactly three emails. One from my father who turned out to be an…

We’ve finally caught up to the section I read at Dirty Boys. You can listen to most of this chapter on our podcast from Feb 12, Part Two.

© by The Dirty Gentleman
Summertime. And the living is easy. So let’s get drunk. And make out in the park. (that’s how it goes right?)

© by The Dirty Gentleman

Summertime. And the living is easy. So let’s get drunk. And make out in the park. (that’s how it goes right?)

A Million Things

I can go from crying to coming in less than an hour. Maybe less than fifteen minutes if I put my mind to it, and if you suck my cock like you did last night.

I walked in with my face a mess and my body covered in slowly drying sweat. I smelled of smoke and lunch, and you wore nothing but black lace around your tiny hips and a smile on your face as you leaned back in the kitchen drinking wine. I poured it all out (not the wine), because you allow it and ask for it and let it be what it is. The tears slowed down, the wine sped up, and within ten minutes we lay on the bed, your head in my lap as I slowly grew hard.

We fucked slowly. Within seconds our bodies were once again covered in sweat, but we moved inside each other, feeling everything, and wanting nothing.

That’s not true, we wanted, but we lacked a goal. We lacked a future at all. Instead you held me where I was, I slid inside you when it felt best, and we moved exactly as we needed to pull the most pleasure out of a fucked up world. We whispered and nibbled, we pinched and slapped, but in the summer heat we mostly fucked, escaping everything and leaving nothing behind.

There are a million things that can make sex hot, but very few that make it easy. Love helps, but it’s not always enough. Kindness can do wonders, and a willingness to listen and try are life changing. But there’s nothing that changes sex more than complete and utter acceptance; a willingness to let everything be as it is and feel as it does. A trust that each desire will be met with love and each need will be matched by a similar honesty.

We came with fingers inside each other. We came with simple words and slow touch. We came without any fear at all, letting each other be where we needed to be: in tears, in love, in compassion, and in hope.

-gny

thedirtygentlemanphotographer:

A lovely nod and a wink from picsandquotes about my membership service:

I came across this sexy fun service that delivers a lovely monthly parcel in the mail for $20 per month, which gets you a really pretty handwritten letter, a signed and limited edition original photograph by The Dirty Gentleman, and each month a different surprise object (Such as stockings, handkerchiefs, simple garter belts, collar stays, cufflinks, little booklets of helpful wisdom, &c.)

thedirtygentlemanphotographer:

A lovely nod and a wink from picsandquotes about my membership service:

I came across this sexy fun service that delivers a lovely monthly parcel in the mail for $20 per month, which gets you a really pretty handwritten letter, a signed and limited edition original photograph by The Dirty Gentleman, and each month a different surprise object (Such as stockings, handkerchiefs, simple garter belts, collar stays, cufflinks, little booklets of helpful wisdom, &c.)
"I love my naked body like few other things in the world. It is mine, to do with as I please. It carries me through this life and has allowed me many things I didn’t expect. It changes and morphs into new versions of itself and I love all of them. I decorate her with tattoos and take her out dancing. I could never be ashamed or embarrassed of her…I’m not exposed or exploited when I am naked. That would be applying someone else’s expectations onto my body…When I am naked I am not brave or vulnerable or there for you. When I am naked, I am divine."

Katie West 

(Source: noctivagantdust, via hennnypotter)

Enough

I never dealt well with her longings.

In the evenings, on the stoop of her building, when we sat smoking cigarettes and drinking red wine from plastic cups, she often grew quiet and thoughtful in a disturbing way. I could see the lines in her face change, and her whole body shifted into someone I didn’t understand.

“I don’t want to live a normal life,” she said.

“Who does?” I responded, as if that was enough.

“I mean I don’t want to live life normally. It’s not the same thing. I don’t mind going to work and getting up early on weekdays. I don’t care about the laundry or the bills. That’s not what I mean.”

“What do you mean then?” I asked, picturing the life of an artist, sleeping ‘till three with an obsessive lack of caring about the details.

“You should know,” she whispered, lighting another cigarette. “I mean, you do know, you just want to forget.”

“I remember everything.”

“Do you remember when we had sex last week in the morning? I started to cry, and you stopped and kissed my eyes and told me everything was alright?”

I nodded, because it was the only thing to do. She often cried during sex, and I moved instantly from thrusting to holding her tight. Life was fragile for us both, and tears required comfort more than lust.

“Should I have kept going?” I finally asked, hoping to break the silence that had gone on too long.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said, stealing the last of my wine. “What you did or didn’t do doesn’t matter. That moment? Those minutes of tears, sex, love, and confusion? That’s what I want. I don’t want a normal life.”

“I swear I’ll never understand you,” I said, leaning back and looking up at the darkening sky. The buildings across the street were silhouetted by the sun, and the streets were full of people longing for anything that didn’t involve tears.

“That’s okay too,” she whispered, leaning her head against my shoulder. “I don’t need your understanding.”

All I could do was kiss her hair, wondering if she would leave or stay. Wondering if it was true.

Wondering if any of it was enough.

Doc Holidays

The music is too loud

and the patrons are unstable

 

they wobble, of course

but their eyes also

shift about the bar

and I wonder that

violence rarely breaks out

 

the beer is nearly warm and the

tables lean back and forth with the

hipsters shooting pool

 

on the ceiling I can still

see the stains

of yellow smoke

from years ago when

ashtrays were furniture

 

the smell is worse in the summer

and the air conditioner chokes

as it struggles to fill the room

 

but after twenty years

I have too many memories

to let go

 

when I look up

to the wobbly men

their shifty eyes no longer

seem nervous

 

I see them smile

I hear them laugh

 

there are many names

for where

we call home

 

tdgpresents:

It would appear that the ladies have attacked guynewyork's parcel this evening. With their mouths.

tdgpresents:

It would appear that the ladies have attacked guynewyork's parcel this evening. With their mouths.

templeofbabalon:
Hey, that’s one of ours! 
Credit to the Dirty Gentleman for this lovely photo.

templeofbabalon:

Hey, that’s one of ours! 

Credit to the Dirty Gentleman for this lovely photo.

(via sandyb77)

© by The Dirty Gentleman


© by The Dirty Gentleman

disgustingnovel:

The first thing that happened when we walked in the door was Rachel took off her shirt. It was still covered in her erstwhile shot, and it so was hot in the apartment I couldn’t really blame her. She was wearing a lacy black bra beneath it, and I had to agree there was a reason the guys at the…