© by The Dirty Gentleman

Some days we need to play a little harder. A little rougher and a little stronger. Some days we need to push ourselves to forgetting and letting go. 

Needing to Be Loved

“Last night was insane,” she said, walking into my room and climbing into my bed. I wasn’t sure if I could listen to another one of her stories, even if it meant getting laid, but I put my book down anyway.

“What did you do?” I asked.

“Come to bed,” she whispered. “I don’t really want to talk. Come hold me and kiss me.”

I could see the bruises on her body as I undressed her, but her mouth was gentle and soft against me. She touched my cheek, and I brushed her hair behind an ear as we slowly lost our clothes and slid beneath the light blanket. Her neck was red and there were finger marks on her collar bone. Each wrist was marked with lines that were turning an angry shade of green and black. I kissed each nipple, watching them harden beneath my light touch, and she sighed sweetly as she opened her thighs.

“I want you slowly,” she whispered as I rolled a condom down over myself minutes later. I looked into her eyes for a long time as I rubbed against her, but her moans never grew frantic. When I finally entered her we kissed like we were in love.

“I like your bruises,” I whispered as I moved faster, and for a moment I pictured it all in my head.

“Don’t,” she moaned, pulling me deeper inside her as she wrapped her arms around me. “I don’t want you to like them. Just hold me.”

I struggled to hold back and to slow down. I tried not to imagine fucking her with everything I had, slapping her face and her ass until I painted my own picture on her body, but it was nearly impossible. Each time I thrust harder, she held me tighter, her voice a whisper in my ear telling me to be gentle. When I finally came it was all I could do not to tell her horrible things.

“Thank you,” she whispered as we lay next to each other in the dark room.

“Why do you do that? Why won’t you let me fuck you for real?”

“That is real.”

“You know what I mean,” I said, rubbing my hands through my hair, my cock still hard from all the things I wanted to do with her.

“You’re the only one,” she finally said, rolling to her back. “I guess I need someone to be sweet to me, because no one else is. Not even me.”

“Most people are the other way around,” I said. “They love their husbands, but they fuck their lovers like they can’t get enough. They don’t do crazy shit at home and then crawl into my bed needing to feel loved.”

“I know,” she whispered, pulling me close again. “I know.”


(If you enjoy my writing and would like to support the blog, you can buy my novel or one of my dirty e-books on Amazon here. You can also contribute via pay pal on quickienewyork.com if you enjoy the content.)


Worry and Control

The first time I asked Maggie if she’d fuck someone else while I watched, I was hoping for control.

We had been dating for a few months, and she made it clear from the beginning that she was not a good girlfriend. But she kissed me slowly and showed up at my room unannounced, so maybe I was different. She came incredibly hard each time we fucked, and I thought it might be enough to keep her from falling into old habits.

Her idea of a bad girlfriend was complicated. Some of it was simply her past that made her convinced no one would love her. Her turn ons and her shame were intricately connected, and somewhere along the line she decided she wasn’t good enough. She was too slutty, too removed, too dirty to be a good girlfriend, so she decided to be a bad one. Days would go by without a phone call, and then she’d show up drunk at my door and beg me to fuck her while I called her names.

“You’re a filthy little whore,” I’d groan as I slapped her and choked her until tears ran down her face. She’d spit and struggle, but the few times I stopped, worried that possibly it had gone to far, she’d roll over and shut down.

“Don’t fucking do that,” she’d say. “I don’t want to deal with you being worried about me.”

When I suggested bringing Max over, she smiled and asked me if I could handle it. I had watched them flirt for weeks, and somewhere in the middle of it all, I decided I could make it mine. Maybe if I told her what to do, if I made her do it, it would feel less hard than when it happened behind my back.

I undressed her in front of him, and she was shy for first time since I met her. I pulled her hair and forced her to her knees, but the look on his face was more concerned than lustful even as she opened her mouth around his cock. We took turns fucking her mouth and her cunt, and there were a few moments when her eyes glazed over in want, but it was nothing close to how she was with me. He was gentle even when I told him not to be, and she kissed me softly while they fucked.

It took her half a bottle of gin to say anything other than, “it was nice.” Three days later she stumbled into my room, her short skirt around her waist as she struggled to get out of her panties. She didn’t kiss me once as she crawled onto my lap and rubbed her pussy against me through my boxers.

“He would have fucked me harder if you weren’t there. He would have hit me and fucked my ass, but he was worried to do it in front of you. I can always tell when someone is afraid to give me what I deserve.”

“Maggie, don’t,” I whispered, even as I watched in horror as I slid my cock inside her. She leaned down and I grabbed her hair as I thrust up into her, but it was too much. “Please, don’t do this.”

She rolled off me a second later, and curled up into a ball. She was still wearing her skirt, and her tank top was down around her stomach. I pulled the blanket up over her and tried to wrap my arms around her. She pushed me away as she rocked on the bed, and her sobs were loud.

“Why didn’t he want me?” she cried.



(If you enjoy my writing and would like to support the blog, you can buy my novel or one of my dirty e-books on Amazon here. You can also contribute via pay pal on quickienewyork.com if you enjoy the content.)

Talia’s Little Sister

“Kelly, this is insane. I’m not going to fuck Talia’s little sister.”

She looked at me, then looked back down to where her hand was wrapped around my once again hard cock. Without another word she climbed on top of me and slid me inside her. I was still amazed that we could do that. That we could just fuck any time we wanted. She felt so good, it was impossible to focus.

“It won’t take long for her to tell you she wants you, and you won’t be able to resist. She’ll drop to the floor and pull out your cock, no matter how many times you tell her to stop.”

“Kelly, don’t do this,” I said, pushing up into her and trying not to picture that blonde hair and awkward smile.

“Tell me you want her,” she said, leaning down and kissing me as we fucked. “Call me Maddy and fuck me, just like you’re going to fuck her later. You know you want it.”

And then without thinking I rolled her onto her back, pulled out for just a second as I stared at her open pussy, and then I slammed back inside her, my eyes closed as I pictured the bed covered in long blonde hair.

“Oh fuck,” I said, thrusting into her faster and harder.

“That’s right Thomas. Say it,” she urged, her nails digging into my back. “Tell Maddy you want to fuck her tight little cunt.”

“Oh god, Maddy,” I finally whispered, anger mixing in with my arousal. “Oh Maddy, you are so fucking tight.”

“Yes, Thomas. Fuck me before my sister gets back. Fuck me so hard.”

“You are so pretty,” I said, kissing her eyes one at a time. I ran my hand down her face. “You’re so pretty and sweet.” I slowed down, moving inside her as if time was stopping. I didn’t even think as the words left my mouth.

“You are so much sweeter than my girlfriend,” I whispered. “So much prettier and tighter too.”

Kelly’s moans turned into whines, and as I kept talking they turned into sobs. She held me tightly as I fucked her, but still I didn’t stop.

“She’s such a whore, but you? You are a perfect little girl, and I love you,” I moaned, knowing that each word would push Kelly closer to the edge. “Oh fuck Maddy, you are so perfect.”

“Tell me more,” she cried, clenching around me, even as her crying grew louder with each thrust.

“I  don’t know why I’m with her,” I said, moving so slowly it was dangerous. “She’s nothing like you at all. You’re pretty and smart, and so much better than her. Don’t make me go back to her.”

“I won’t,” she whispered into my ear, as I pushed as deeply inside her as I could go. “You can stay here forever. I’ll love you for real, and I’ll never leave you. It will just be us. Just you and me, fucking forever. Please Thomas. Fuck me harder.”

I started moving again, my eyes shut so tightly it hurt, and it was all too real. Maddy’s body trembled beneath me. Maddy’s breasts pressed against my chest, and Maddy’s cunt clenched perfectly around me as we made love over and over again. Love and relief flooded my body as I arched my back, and I finally said it once more.

“I love you Maddy, I love you so much more than her.”

And then we were both coming, her through her tears, and mine in anger, want, and revenge. If she was going to push me she could take it as well. Kelly wanted to pull my strings, but I could pull back. No matter how far she wanted to take it, I could meet her there, and we’d see who gave in first…


(From my forthcoming novel Disgusting, Beautiful, Immoral.)

Hitting with Words

The first kinky sex I ever had was all talk.

Before any slapping, spanking, scratching, or biting, all my boundaries were verbal. Before I ever tied anyone up, choked them, or held them down while while fucking them up the ass, I whispered honest things in her ear as she did the same. Some of them blend together into memories that are only half formed, but there’s a string of words that planted the seeds.

First there was Kaity on my bed with her uniform skirt around her waist as she refused to be quiet. The window was open, my mother was gardening, and she begged me to fuck her with no volume control at all.

“She’s going to hear you,” I whispered.

“Good,” she moaned, “let her know you’re fucking me. I don’t care, just don’t stop.”

And then a year later I knelt on the floor while Stephanie talked to her ex on the phone. I ate her pussy and she stopped trying to pretend otherwise in the middle of the call. She came with him on the other end of the line, my tongue against her clit and my fingers inside her cunt.

It was Melissa who whispered, “I want to fuck your roommate” into my ear one morning when I was inside her, and I made her tell me about it in detail. When we came she was practically screaming his name, but we hadn’t once raised a finger. Without words we were simply two sweaty teenagers, fucking on a tiny dorm bed.

The fighting and bruising all came later. The belts, the cuffs, and the wax followed along, but it was always the words that hit me the hardest. Even years later, when Alison lay over my lap, her ass red from my hand, it was her words that made me hard.

“I promise I’ll do better,” she moaned, my fingers finally pushing into her wet cunt as I struggled not to come beneath her.


(If you enjoy my writing and would like to support the blog, you can buy my novel or one of my dirty e-books on Amazon here. You can also contribute via pay pal on quickienewyork.com if you enjoy the content.)

Disappointment Enough (or Leave Them on The Chair)

“I want to spank you with your skirt still on.”

“But I haven’t done anything wrong.”

For some reason we had gotten in the habit of negotiating over dinner. Schiller’s was packed, and we had destroyed the tray of oysters in front of us, but we ordered a final round of drinks so we still had time.

“I don’t always spank you for being bad,” I said, swallowing the last Blue Point. She crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. Beneath the table I could see her bare thighs each time she shifted in her seat.

“I always pretend that I have, even if you don’t say it. It’s not always other boys or something like that. Sometimes it’s just that I’ve disappointed you. Those are the hardest times.”

“Hard in terms of how you come? Or how you struggle?” I didn’t look up when the waiter put down our manhattans.

“Both,” she said, finally breaking eye contact. “But, of course, how do I get punished if I don’t do the wrong thing? It’s a conundrum.”

I reached out and took a hand. I raised it to my lips and kissed her knuckles while lifting my drink with my other hand. She raised hers as well and we toasted silently, watching each other’s brains work.

“Take off whatever’s under that skirt,” I said. She wrinkled her nose, but didn’t pause. We both eyed the room as she lifted off her seat, just enough to slide her panties down and hand them to me beneath the table.

“If it makes you feel any better, I can always find something. No matter how hard you try, now matter how good you are, I’ll find a reason. And tonight I have at least six of them. Let’s finish our drinks and then go. I want you over my knee with that skirt around your waist.”

We stood up and gathered our coats, finishing our drinks in gulps that were way too big for anyone. Just as she tucked in her chair I leaned in and took her hand. She clutched the bundled ball of white cotton with a confused look.

“Leave them on the chair,” I said. “You’ve already disappointed me enough tonight.”


(If you enjoy my writing and would like to support the blog, you can buy my novel or one of my dirty e-books on Amazon here.)

She Doesn’t Know Who You Are

“I’m not telling you who he is until he’s inside you.”

An hour earlier she had called me for a favor. She knows I have Tai Chi on Tuesdays, but still I got a message saying there was a naked girl with a blindfold on in her bed, and would I mind coming over and teasing her with the head of my cock? Tai Chi would be there next Tuesday I thought.

There was a part of me that knew it was a set up. But that part was convinced it wasn’t for me. Sara likes to play, and she likes to surprise, but not once as I biked across town did it occur to me that I was just as much a toy as her little tied up friend. But I parked, walked up her stairs, and she let me in without so much as an earring on.

“This way,” she said. I followed her down the hall to her bedroom where she put a finger to her mouth. “She doesn’t know who you are.”

She made me wait to follow her in, and it didn’t occur to me until I saw them, that I didn’t know who she was either. Sara had the girl on her back and was straddling her. All I could see was four legs, two cunts, and one ass calling to me with a profound urgency. I stripped down as quietly as I could and there were whispers behind me.

“Shhh,” Sara said. “He’ll be here soon enough.”

I stood behind them, my hard dick in my hand, and a Durex condom dutifully covering it. I had another one in my hand in case I was somehow going to be lucky enough to fuck them both. Sara wiggled her ass as I approached, and when I rubbed against her pussy lips she pushed back. I slid into her, still unable to see the girl lying beneath her. I occasionally got a flash of hair and a blindfold, but her face was covered by Sara’s body even as I started to fuck.

“Oh fuck yes,” she moaned. “He’s fucking me, Babygirl. He’s fucking my tight pussy and it feels so good.” There was a mumble, but I couldn’t make out the words.

“I already told you,” Sara continued. “If you want to know who he is, I’ll tell you. Once he’s in your pussy.”

Obviously, I almost came right then. I had to take a deep breath, stop moving completely, and think about work to keep it all from rushing out, but I was determined to wait.

“Tell me you want it,” she whispered again. “Tell me you want his cock. It doesn’t matter who it is. I know you. You’re a hungry little slut, and all that matters is you get fucked. Isn’t that right?”

There was moaning coming from all our lips and my eyes were glued to the pussy I wasn’t fucking. I was shocked at how badly I wanted her, even though I was balls deep in someone else. Funny how life is.

“Louder,” Sara said, her voice betraying her own want. “Beg for it. Beg like a good little girl.”

I pulled out of Sara in desperate hope, threw the condom onto the floor and rolled another one down onto my cock in a heartbeat. I opened the other girl’s legs wider and rubbed against her drenched cunt until I didn’t think I could bare it. It felt like ages for before Sara said the words.

“Fuck her,” she moaned. “Fuck my little slut.”

The second I slid into her, Sara rolled out of the way taking the blindfold with her. I closed my eyes as I fell on top of my new partner, and when I finally looked at her, my cock was buried so far inside her there was no going back.

“You,” she said, her eyes wide open.

“Oh, fuck,” I said, recognition slamming into me like an express bus.

And then we were kissing and fucking, and Sara was laughing on the bed as she watched us tear at each other with a reckless abandon earned from too many years of want.


(If you enjoy my writing and would like to support the blog, you can buy my novel or one of my dirty e-books on Amazon here.)

Younger and Rougher

It got to the point where each time we played she got younger and I got rougher.

The first few times we were simply strangers on campus, and I’d kiss her in dark corners and she’d pretend to push me away before giving in. Sometimes she’d drop to her knees in an empty classroom and I’d pull her hair and tell her she had to swallow before going back to her boyfriend. But in less than a week none of it was enough.

“Let’s pretend I’m in high school instead,” she whispered one night in bed.

“My little tutee, who I can’t keep my hands off?” She climbed onto to me as I said it, and I was hard in seconds. Her cunt was so wet it took us four tries to fuck with any rhythm.  Somewhere in the middle she begged me to stop, and I fucked her harder until both of us came in waves of release.

We didn’t talk about it for days, but our minds were both moving and we were wondering how far the other would go. Would I make a suggestion she’d be horrified by? Would she ask for something that would disgust me?

“You’ll be walking home from school and I’ll grab you,” I said one night, testing the waters.

“I’ll wake up here in your room, tied to something hard.”

“This time you’ll be younger,” I whispered as I wrapped my belt around her hands. She didn’t struggle as I tied it to the metal pipes and tightened it.

“How old? How old do you want me to be, you fucking pervert?” She wasn’t going to let me off the hook, and she didn’t stop. “I’m never going to give in. No matter what you do, I’ll never stop struggling.”

“Let’s say fourteen,” I whispered. She closed her eyes and a moan escaped her lips as I kept talking. “And I’m going to fuck your ass until you cry.”

“Good luck,” she groaned before shaking her head and switching instantly into the game.

I stood and walked back to the door where I turned out the light. She was lying on my floor in a short skirt and a tank top with her hands tied tightly to the radiator; she had never looked prettier. I took a deep breath as I watched her pretend to be unconscious. She moaned and rolled about as I stepped closer.

I knelt on the floo,r and as she opened her eyes I reached beneath her skirt and tore her panties off her hips without pause. She struggled to hold her legs closed, but I forced them open easily as I reached up to her shirt and gripped it in a ball with one strong fist.

“Good morning you little cunt. Are you ready to get fucked?”

She spit at me and growled.


©2013 by The Dirty Gentleman (#716)
Sometimes we don’t need anything but hands and teeth to make each other hurt. Or come. 

©2013 by The Dirty Gentleman (#716)

Sometimes we don’t need anything but hands and teeth to make each other hurt. Or come. 

Sense of Return

One of my favorite things to do with her collar was take it off.

I loved watching her eyes get big when I reached into my bag and she heard the sound of the chain, and I loved how still she sat when I wrapped it around her neck and fastened the buckle ever so gently. She transformed instantly, and I was right behind her. The second I stood back and looked at her—always naked and kneeling on the bed—I was someone else. I had full permission to do as I pleased, and the feeling was dizzying.

I loved how she moved with the slightest twitch of her leash, first this way and then that. Her face scrunched up into an expression of serious concentration, and even when I pulled her down and opened her mouth around my cock, I could feel the tension in her body. When I had her stand and place her hands on the wall, we required no other restraint than the end of the leash in her mouth. Even as I let the blows fall on her ass until her skin was crimson and her cunt dripping, she held still, only moaning through the soaked leather between her teeth.

I often fucked her on her back with the chain wrapped around one hand and the other in her hair. I loved looking into her eyes as she strained to answer each question, and she whimpered when I pulled my cock from her body in reprimand.

But after hours of sweating, hours of thrusting, slapping, biting, coming and crying, I needed something else. She rarely knew when I was done, but by the time she was back to kneeling again, it was clear. She trembled as I got closer, and when my fingers touched the clasp, I could feel her body begin to melt. I always made her close her eyes as I removed it, before carefully putting it back where it belonged.

And then my arms were around her, she was kissing my face, and it was better than seeing each other after months apart. We smiled and laughed, and I held her without regret.

Some days I only put it on so that hours later I might kiss her lips and feel that overwhelming sense of return.



(If you enjoy my writing and would like to support the blog, you can buy one of my dirty e-books on Amazon here.)

©2013 by The Dirty Gentleman (#712)
Oh dear. Did I make that too tight? Let me kick it and see if it can move.

©2013 by The Dirty Gentleman (#712)

Oh dear. Did I make that too tight? Let me kick it and see if it can move.

The Cat is Unconcerned

The cat is unconcerned when I tie her to the bed. He doesn’t mind at all when I pull off my belt and take it to the soft flesh of her ass and thighs over and over again. Even her moans and cries don’t appear to bother him in the slightest.

When I slide my cock down her throat and she gasps for air, he curls up on the end of the bed and washes his face with a paw. Even as I hold the toy to her clit until she comes in colors he doesn’t look up.

On her stomach, her back arched, and my cock deep inside her ass we both scream and moan, as he closes his eyes and stretches out his hind legs.

When we finally blow out the candles and turn off the music, he crawls up next to us and purrs as she pets him. I kiss them both goodnight, and the three of us sleep.



Squirmy, Wiggly, and Difficult

“So what if I’m being bratty? What are you gonna do? Spank me?”

She was squirmy, wiggly, and difficult to say the least. I had her on her stomach on the bed, and I was holding her hands firmly behind her, but she was not being helpful. In fact, it was clear that she wanted to be punished, and she wanted it to happen her way. She wanted my hand on her ass, bringing out her favorite color, and she wanted to feel the sting on her cheek. She wanted me to hold her down, take her over my knee, and make her beg me to stop until I couldn’t help myself and I had to fuck her.

“I don’t think so,” I whispered as I loosened my grip. “You don’t get to choose how I punish you.”

“What are you going to do?” There was still defiance in her voice, but it was wavering. A sliver of  uncertainty slipped in between her words, as if she suddenly remembered my options.

“Well, if you don’t want to be a good girl, I’ll simply have to make a phone call.”

“Are you going to make your friend spank me again?” There was hope mixed in with a hint of snark.

“No Babygirl. I’m going to call your little friend instead. What’s her name again? The cute one with the blonde hair and the big eyes? The one who always sits on my lap when you’re not looking and whispers in my ear?”

“Lilly,” she whispered with horror in her voice.

“That’s the one. If you can’t be a good girl, then maybe she’ll have to do.” I was leaning over her, but no longer touching her body. My lips were inches from her ear and her whole body quivered as I spoke. “Maybe she’ll take off her pretty dress for me and kneel on your pillow. Maybe she’ll make me hard in her mouth without needing a slap to remind her to focus. And maybe, as you lie here watching, she’ll open her pale thighs, and I’ll fuck her perfect cunt as I tell her how much better she is.”

She was crying as the words came out, and finally I caressed her hair once more. She sat up and threw herself into my arms, burying her face into the crook of my neck.

“I promise,” she moaned. “I promise I’ll be good. Please don’t call her. Please.”

I held her tightly, kissing the top of her head as she sobbed loudly.

“You’ll try, Babygirl. I know you’ll try.”


©2013 by The Dirty Gentleman (#677)
A good boy can take her whole fist!

©2013 by The Dirty Gentleman (#677)

A good boy can take her whole fist!

Is That What You Want?

“Why do all the boys want to come on my face, Daddy?”

She was sitting in my lap on our big chair and I was brushing her hair. Actually, she was sitting across my lap in the big chair, and she was tangling it back up again as soon as I could get the knots out.

“Where would you like them to come?”

“Somewhere else,” she whispered, her fingers stopping their fidgeting.

“Not here?” I asked, pushing two fingers between her soft lips.

“It’s better than in my hair or my eyes.”

“How about here?” I slid my hand down to her chin and wrapped it gently around her neck. She shook her head as she arched her back. The muscles beneath my hand were strong and soft.

“And here?” I asked, sliding the straps of her tank top down until her breasts we visible. “You don’t want them to come here?”

“No,” she whispered again. “Sometimes they do, but it’s not what I want.”

It was my turn to shiver as I slid my hand down further, caressing her stomach and toying with the elastic of her Alice blue cotton. I circled her navel and scratched her lightly.

“Not there either, Daddy.”

I jumped from her stomach to her thighs, opening them with one hand by pulling a leg up against my chest. She sighed as my fingers inched their way up her skin, but all the while she shook her head. Without warning I cupped her through the wet fabric and lifted her off my lap and back against my chest. She gasped as I held her, and her hands went to my legs to support herself.

“Is this where you want them to come? Is that what you want?” I asked, picturing it in vivid detail.

She grabbed my hand and slipped in inside, forcing two of my fingers into her soaking wet cunt.

“No, Daddy. That’s where I want them to come. Not on my neck or my tits. Not on my stomach, my ass or my thigh. Not on the hundreds of other places boys want to come. I want it here.” She moaned as she pushed down onto my fingers, and I could feel her clenching around me.

I picked her up with my fingers still inside her. I lifted her with my other arm around her back and she pushed against my hand. I threw her down onto the bed without stopping. Her panties were gone a second later and my hard cock was against her even as I pinned her arms above her head.

“And why do you want them to come there?” I asked, my voice now a growl. She struggled to get me inside her, wiggling her hips as she moaned and thrashed about. She bit her lip, she begged and she cried as I came so close to fucking her.

“Because it makes you angry,” she said. “I want them to come in me so when I come home you get mad.”

I was inside her a second later and I was not gentle. My hand moved from her arms to her throat as she glared up me, her eyes glazed over and her lip trembling.

“Harder, Daddy. Fuck me harder.”

I kissed her mouth, but it was not a kiss anyone would write about it. In her struggle to breathe it was more of a bite, but it was enough. I could taste her tongue and her mouth as I devoured her, and all the while my body didn’t stop moving inside her. Her cunt was impossibly tight, her thighs amazingly strong, and there was no way I could stop until I gave her what she asked for.

She started to come a second before me, but both of us exploded. I squeezed her throat tightly and fucked her faster as she held my gaze with complete and unfettered lust. I filled her cunt over and over again, holding myself against her when I was the deepest, and when I finally released her she gasped as she came. We kissed with lips for the first time, and our fingers unclenched as our orgasms climbed down the other side of the mountain.

I lay next to her, my hand covering her cunt, feeling both our messes inside her.

“Why do you want me to get angry?” I finally asked.

“”Because you fuck me so much harder when you’re angry,” she said, leaning on my chest and kissing me again. “So much fucking harder.”



Guy New York

(If you enjoy my writing and would like to support the blog, you can buy my novel, or one of my dirty e-books on Amazon here.)