Summer and Fall

She climbed onto my lap as he watched us, a smile on his face that I had seen a million times before.

 

“I can’t believe I’ve never kissed you,” she whispered, her lips just brushing my own.

 

“Is that what you want?” I asked. “Just a kiss?”

 

“I want more than a kiss,” she said letting me taste her breath as I dug my fingers into the small of her back and pulled her closer. Her lips were full and soft, and I could feel years of anticipation pressing against the back of my throat. Our kiss was tender and strong. It was summer and fall.

 

“You two are beautiful,” he said leaning closer to us, even as I slid the straps of her dress off her shoulders. Her neck was impossibly soft and her collarbone left a pool of shadow in which I buried my mouth. When her hips moved I was hard in an instant, and she whimpered into my ear as she pushed against me.

 

She was the one who motioned for him to lose his shirt as I kissed the space between her breasts, and out of the corner of my eye I watched him kneel beside us, his hand on his belt and his bare chest strong and slick. Without thinking I ran one hand up his body from his stomach to his parted lips, where he took them instantly.

 

“Let’s suck his cock,” she whispered into my ear, her hand pulling at his buckle. “While we fuck,” she added as an after thought. I wiggled beneath her, my mind growing dizzy in an instant as she helped me pull my cock from my jeans and roll a condom over it as he watched. Her dress was around her waist, his hand inside his pants, and in a moment everything was clear once more.

 

She guided me inside her, slowly opening around me as I held her hips and ass; he lifted her dress, watching us join for the first time. He licked his lips as he watched, and then suddenly she was on me, my cock buried inside her completely, and my mouth back on hers with a hunger that bordered on ravenous.

 

And before I could get used to anything, he was standing next to us, his hard cock in his fist as she leaned in and took him into her mouth. My hand replaced his in a second as I tried to focus on everything at once, and he was impossibly hard. She pulled him closer, leaning back just enough to watch my lips open as well, taking him into my mouth as I pulled her onto me with a hand on the small of her back.

 

I don’t know how long we stayed like that, but it might have been years; taking turns sucking his cock and fucking for the first time after waiting almost too long. I don’t know how I managed to focus at all, and I don’t know how she slipped a hand between our bodies to rub her clit exactly the right way. I do know that he screamed out both our names as he grew closer, and I do know that we laughed and grinned as we jerked him off into our waiting mouths. And I know that her sticky kiss, salty and sweet, was full of tenderness and come all at the same time.

 

He lay back and watched, his body still shaking as she clenched around me, her dress now lost to a dark corner of the floor. I kissed her neck and pulled a nipple between my teeth until she screamed. But it wasn’t until I threw her to her back, opened her thighs, and stared at her open cunt that I was fully present. I fucked her once more, her head nearly in his lap, and she closed her eyes and arched her hips to meet me as she slapped her cunt with an open hand. Over and over again she beat her tender skin as I slammed into her, her moans growing darker and deeper with each second.

 

When she came it was with a growl and with tears. Her face closed in pain and pleasure, her thighs closed around me, and her hands turned to fists in an instant. She screamed and screamed, even as I continued fucking her, and it went on for an endless moment. I kissed her mouth as he cradled her head, and when I finally held her she started to laugh.

 

I pulled out and lay next to next body, still in the spasms of release, and he sighed as he touched my face.

 

“So beautiful,” he said again, his voice echoing in the dark room like a light in the sky.

 -gny

Lions and Gazelles

As the frat boys roll into the Lower East Side, their collars popped and their Docksiders worn with salt water from the deck of Daddy’s boat, I stay close to the walls hoping to go unseen. Their girlfriends are impossibly tall, their legs going all the way up with boots that cover their knees, and skirts that go nowhere. They look foreign to me as if sometime a few thousand years ago we split off in separate directions down the evolutionary road. They are gazelles and lions while I’m fisher cat slinking through the shadows.

 

But back at my apartment, with the music switching been Lana Del Rey and Richard Thompson, there are limbs and whisky that have come from a million different directions. We’ve come from old families and broken ones. We’ve come from black sands and swamps, and we’ve come from towering buildings with doormen who raised us as much as anyone else. We’ve come from trailers and mansions, our bodies and minds as varied as the changing streets that crawl off into the hidden places we don’t yet know.

 

Sometimes I wonder if our kissing and undressing is simply another way to cope with the swirling mess outside our windows. If our naked bodies, slick with sweat and beautifully bruised, let us melt into the night as much as the heels and backwards hats do. We laugh loudly and often, even as thighs part and lips becomes wet with anticipation. We move between staring in awe and drifting off behind closed eyes while the world holds us without thought.


The elegant animals on the streets howl into the evening as we pull sounds from our own lips, drowning out the noise from below.

-gny

disgustingnovel:

Two things happened that week: Rachel moved out of our apartment, and I didn’t sleep with Maddy. Maybe that’s just one thing, but in my mind, it was at least four. Not fucking Maddy wasn’t especially difficult; in fact, I barely saw her the whole week she was there, but that didn’t mean I didn’t…

The new Dirty Boys Podcast is now available

gibsongrand:

The podcast of our most recent Dirty Boys show at the Parkside Lounge in NYC on Sept. 7, 2014 is now available.  Follow the links for Parts 1 and 2.
The podcast will be available on iTunes tomorrow.

(via dirtyboysnyc)

Feeling Loved

Asking for help is always more difficult when I don’t know what I need. Help moving, a free drink, or a hug are easier to ask for, but when I’m the most stuck I can hardly even beg for a phone call.

In my swirling world of sex, booze, and parties, it’s sometimes simpler to let the body lead. But at the end of the night those needs are best nourished by the heart and the mind as well. The sex only feels safe when there’s honesty and possibly love, and the drinking only works with good company. The parties leave me aching and alone without an underpinning of community, or even a simple sense of welcome. Of belonging. Of acceptance.

On occasion I get reminded of what it feels like to mix it all together, and those nights I light up the sky. On those nights the kisses are longer, the sex more kind, and the drinks more delicious. On those nights the parties have stories all of their own that get passed down for years as we all struggle to remember what it felt like to be alive.

On those nights I’m reminded of what it’s like to be loved.

(Before Dirty Boys Sunday evening we received a few DirtyPrompts. We chose this one —thank you Piper— and all wrote super quick and short stories for it, which we read at the show. Mine is below.)


What Are You Doing?
"What are you doing?" I asked watching her hand slip between her legs."What does it look like?""We’re late already. No one has time to get off."She closed her eyes, her fingers moving faster as I watched with my hands on my hips like a concerned parent. She arched her back lifting up against her hand and I pushed away the twitch in my pants with a violent thought."I’ve been so horrible," she moaned over and over again, her hand never stopping. "I can’t believe what I did."It only took seconds for me to throw her hands above her head and not much more time for me to fill her."You are going to kill me," I growled."It’s about time," she said clenching around me.

-gny

Daisy Danger’s entry!
Jack Stratton’s entry!

(Before Dirty Boys Sunday evening we received a few DirtyPrompts. We chose this one —thank you Piper— and all wrote super quick and short stories for it, which we read at the show. Mine is below.)

What Are You Doing?

"What are you doing?" I asked watching her hand slip between her legs.

"What does it look like?"

"We’re late already. No one has time to get off."

She closed her eyes, her fingers moving faster as I watched with my hands on my hips like a concerned parent. She arched her back lifting up against her hand and I pushed away the twitch in my pants with a violent thought.

"I’ve been so horrible," she moaned over and over again, her hand never stopping. "I can’t believe what I did."

It only took seconds for me to throw her hands above her head and not much more time for me to fill her.

"You are going to kill me," I growled.

"It’s about time," she said clenching around me.

-gny

Daisy Danger’s entry!

Jack Stratton’s entry!

(photos by The Dirty Gentleman)

Thanks to everyone who came out last night for Dirty Boys. We had a fantastic time reading for you, and you were a lovely and delightful audience. Let’s do it again soon!

xoxo

-gny

disgustingnovel:

“Will you stay?”

I think it took both of us by surprise, and Brent looked at me with a shrug.

“It’s not like that,” Kelly continued. “I’m just scared, and you two are the only ones who know what happened. It’s not just tonight either. It’s been getting worse for weeks, and I’ve been holding…

I’ll be reading from this chapter at Dirty Boys on Sunday. You should come. 

quickienewyork:

©2013 by The Dirty Gentleman (#738)
Long enough for it to move to this…

quickienewyork:

©2013 by The Dirty Gentleman (#738)

Long enough for it to move to this…

(via joandefers)

Tumblr

scrolling through tumblr

i move between excitement

and horror again and again

 

one massive cock makes me twitch

and another makes me turn away

spread thighs, cum soaked lips, new breasts,

and someone calling out for help

 

they all scroll past as if

there was no difference at all

 

and sometimes I wonder

if it’s myself or the images

that are the problem

 

can I let myself go?

or does each one pull me in

exciting and revolting me

when I realize that

every

single

image

 

is a reflection of

my own mind

-gny

disgustingnovel:

Another lovely submission. This is a gorgeous photo, and I especially love how much affection/abuse the book has received. 
Thanks for sharing!

disgustingnovel:

Another lovely submission. This is a gorgeous photo, and I especially love how much affection/abuse the book has received. 

Thanks for sharing!

Dirty Help

dirtyboysnyc:

We need your help. We need it badly.

You see, there are only so many dirty things we can think up on our own. We want our upcoming reading to have more. We want it to be the dirtiest. That’s why we need you.

So please send us something to write about! We want prompts, dirty words, scenarios, scene ideas, dirty pictures, songs, whatever. Send us something and we will pick a few of these prompts to write about and read what we come up with at the September 7th Dirty Boys Reading.

You can post your words, pictures, etc, on twitter, tumblr, or instagram with the hashtag #dirtyprompts or email them to me at mrjackstratton@gmail.com

We are depending on your depravity.

Charmed,
Jack Stratton, on behalf of the Dirty Boys

gibsongrand:

writingdirty:

#dirtyprompts

Time to get dirty.

gibsongrand:

writingdirty:

#dirtyprompts

Time to get dirty.

gibsongrand:

Dirty Boys are back for another show September 7, 2014.

Come join us for another night of filthy stories, good drinks, and friendly people.

gibsongrand:

Dirty Boys are back for another show September 7, 2014.

Come join us for another night of filthy stories, good drinks, and friendly people.

(via dirtyboysnyc)

Creativity

“We used to go down on each other, pretending you had just come in us.”

 

I nearly spat out my drink as the words left her mouth because that was not at all where I thought the conversation was going. We had been getting caught up in nostalgia, thinking about an old friend, but it had been sweet reminiscing about sunsets and late nights laughing. It was wine in paper cups, college professors, and term papers.

 

“Can you say that again?” I asked, leaning in closer. Her blush was slight, but obvious, and I wondered if she had meant to say it out loud.

 

“We’re all allowed fantasies,” she said with a shrug. “It was fun. We both wanted you, so we just took turns, wondering what it would be like if the other stumbled home after a few hours in your bed.”

 

“Which turned you on more?” I asked, closing my eyes as I pictured them together once more. I had plenty of my own fantasies to choose from, and there had been enough nights years ago when I lay awake wondering if they were sharing a bed. They were the sort of roommates who held hands when they walked to class and wrote letters on vacation. They showered together after runs, and wore the same outfits to parties.

 

“That’s easy,” she whispered, taking my hand in hers. “It was always me. I always wanted to start it, to tease her, and to make her ask questions until she was so turned on she couldn’t help herself. I’d stumble into the room and tell her it had happened. I used to push her down onto my bed, my hand in her hair as she begged to hear more. By the time I felt her mouth on my thigh she was practically coming, and I was close behind.”

 

“And she…” I couldn’t get the words out.

 

“She dove in, eating my pussy like she was crazy. ‘I can taste him’ she’d moan, fucking me with her tongue. ‘I can taste his come inside you.’”

 

I leaned back and took a drink, wondering if I had been that clueless in school or if I was simply that foolish now.

 

“I wish you had told me,” I finally said, kissing her fingers. “I mean, I might have been able to help.”

 

“It was just a fantasy,” she said with another shrug. “Besides, it was the only way I could get her to go down on me. Sometimes you have to be creative.”

 

-gny