There Were Times

There were times when I thought she was too kind.

Kneeling on the floor in front of me, her cheek red from a slap and her eyes glazed over, I had to pause and make sure we were in the same room. She offered everything, her willingness something I didn’t deserve.

She thanked me each time we fucked, and I left each morning wondering if that’s what it felt like to be loved.

 

-gny

© by The Dirty Gentleman

Since I clearly have ass on my mind today, here are a few highlights from TDG shoots. Clickem to embiggen them. It’s worthwhile.

© by The Dirty Gentleman
Who wants to play?

© by The Dirty Gentleman

Who wants to play?

© by The Dirty Gentleman
I can sit for hours watching her do this. 

© by The Dirty Gentleman

I can sit for hours watching her do this. 

© by The Dirty Gentleman

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

(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

It’s Okay

“It’s okay if you lie about me,” I whispered. “In fact, I like it.”

“You like it?”

I pulled her closer and kissed her hair once more, still marveling at the fact that she was in bed next to me at all. We had moved from exaltation to exhaustion more times than I could count and our bodies were sore and battered. Each time I thought we might slow down or sleep there was a whispered word or the movement of a thigh. Something as simple as a breath would draw us back into each other’s sticky embrace and once again time would forget what it was supposed to do.

“You’re so honest and kind,” I said, pausing to kiss her lips and look into her eyes. “So I like anything at all that makes you go against your values.”

She buried her head in the crook of my neck and shook it back and forth, her hair in my mouth in an instant. I squeezed her hand, wondering if for just a moment I had said the wrong thing. When she finally looked up at me again she was grinning.

“I think this might work out well,” she said before kissing me once more.

-gny

Guess what’s happening again soon? 

Guess what’s happening again soon? 

© 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

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.