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.



Moot Chuck

Chuck’s mother sent him to college with two rubber stamps. One read “obtuse” and the other read “moot.”

He carried them with him throughout his freshman year, sneaking by professor’s desks and stamping papers or tests without anyone looking. He laughed about it later, saying it was probably true anyway. Most everything we did as college kids was one or the other. And how strange to not have an argument about it. It’s not wrong. It’s not missing the point. Your entire exam was simply moot.

His nose was as sharp as his stamping hand, and his brown hair was a mess as only white boys in a liberal arts college can get away with. It curled around his ears, stuck out in a million different directions, and it’s possible there were birds. His worn leather jacked added a hint of mystery to his otherwise nervous persona, and he smoked rolled cigarettes one after the other until his fingers stained yellow.

One morning in the dining hall we couldn’t help stare at him, the black mark on his forehead as crisp and clear as if he was a blank sheet of paper. The word “moot” sat on his skin, his hair somehow managing to highlight it rather than hide it. Seemingly unaware, he smiled as he sat down, and opened his mouth for a swallow of black coffee.

“Did you have a date last night?” I asked him.

“Uh-huh,” he said, with a grin. “She left sometime in the night, but it doesn’t matter. She was everywhere all at once, and I couldn’t understand her at all. Philosophy majors are so damn obtuse.”

“Did you tell her that?” I asked, following up gently.

“Of course I did. I told her I wanted to stamp it on her forehead as a constant reminder to talk like a normal person. None of this transcendental meaning of life bullshit.”

“I’m sure she appreciated it,” I said. “In fact, I think it really left an impression on her.”

“I sure hope so,” he said, leaning back and smiling once more. “I sure hope so.”


Wanting What He Wants

“He wants to fuck me up the ass,” she said, lying in my bed. We had fucked for a half hour and were staring out at the city with smiles on our faces.

“Don’t tell me that,” I moaned, my hand sliding down her back. “Are you going to let him?”

“Why shouldn’t I tell you that? What do you care what my husband wants?” 

Her ass was smooth and hard at the same time, and I pressed my fingers into her skin. Her hair lay down her back, splayed out like an autumn afternoon, decorating her in red. God, please let her say she’s going to do it. Please let her tell me she’s going to let him.

“Are you going to?” I finally asked, choking on the words as they slipped out, trying to give nothing away.

“Probably not. It just doesn’t feel like our thing,” she said.

“Oh fuck,” I said, rolling onto my back and looking up at the ceiling.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” she asked, poking me in the chest with a long finger.

“This,” I said, turning back and grabbing her left ass cheek in one hand. “This perfect little tush is what’s wrong with me.”

“Fuck, does that mean…” She said, recognition splashed across her face. She nestled her head down into the pillow, her mouth covered as she wiggled on the bed.

“Yes,” I said, rolling on top of her, my cock hard once more and pressed between the cheeks of her ass. I pushed harder against her as I pulled her hair and kissed her neck.

“What do you want? What does it mean?” she moaned, arching her back up to me.

“You know what I want. You knew it before you said a word. And you knew that you wouldn’t say no to me, didn’t you? Maybe him, but never me.”

“Yes,” she moaned again. “Just say it. Please say it.”

“I’m going to fuck you,” I growled, pushing harder against her. “I’m going to fuck your ass so goddamned hard you won’t be able to think. I’m going to make you beg for it, and cry for it until you can’t stand it any longer, and then I’m going to fuck you again. You’re going to come so hard with my cock inside you, with my cock buried in your tight little ass, and when we’re done you’ll make me promise to do it again.”

“Oh fuck,” she screamed, opening her legs wider with each moan. “I hate you.”

"Do you want me to stop?" I whispered, my lips just brushing her ear.

"No," she moaned, lifting her hips off the bed. "Please God, no."


The Lucky One

The three of us lay in bed afterwards, our hands intertwined and the sweat drying on our skin.

I occasionally looked back and forth between them: eyes, breasts, hips, and all the rest. I took them in with a sigh, wondering who was the lucky one? Was it me, with two beautiful women so close to me? Was it her, finally getting the chance to watch and let go? Getting the chance to taste pussy on my cock, and reveling in the power she felt as she pushed our friend to the bed and closed her thighs around her?

Or was it the third? Her body sore and exhausted from too much attention. Her lips bruised, her ass red, and her cunt still throbbing?

But of course, she has to work at seven am, and won’t be home until she’s finished an exhausting day with a boss who takes her for granted. The other needs to go home in the morning to a husband who may or may not be excited that she fucked me while getting her face slapped by a pretty red head with a filthy mouth. And I have to pretend I can sleep, pretend I don’t feel guilt or even worry. I have to spend the night trying not to think of someone who isn’t there.

Too many thoughts swirled in my head as I stared up at the white ceiling, wishing I had the energy to paint it red. Wishing I had the nerve to cover it in color.

I could hear them breathing, and when I moved my hands there was soft skin along with parting thighs and someone’s fingers. The fan in the window did little to cool us off, and the room smelled like the ocean in summer.

I leaned this way and that, kissing one’s cheek and the other’s lips as I nestled down between them, my thoughts mostly forgotten. A thigh slid between my own, and the blood flowed instantly, followed by a gentle hand. Someone moaned, and someone bit my collar bone. I closed my eyes, my hands and arms pulling closer. Pulling harder in the warm dark, until my mouth was full of hair while warm, soft, willing lips, kissed down my chest to my stomach showing no signs of stopping.



Autumn Isn’t Coming

I sat down next to Rhyming Jenny. Drunk. Tired. Cold.


“Autumn isn’t coming this year,” I told her over my glass. I had been drinking Manhattans with a splash of something smoky. They were good and they warmed me up, but I had lost count a couple drinks ago.


“Of course she is. She always comes for at least a night or two. That girl would climb a goddamn mountain to fuck you, even if she does leave the next morning to climb another one to fuck some other drunk writer.”


“Have you ever tried lying?” I asked her. She was deathly honest, and there was no way around it. She says she was cursed when she was young. I think it’s just a survival mechanism, but I don’t say that out loud.


“How do you know I’m not?” she snorted, shaking her head at me. I was used to that head shake, and even on a bad (drunk, tired, cold) day it was reassuring. It meant everything would be fucking fine. It meant I worry too much. It meant everyone else knows me better than I do, so I should just shut the fuck up about it.


“She’s probably going to stay somewhere warm and never come to New York again,” I moaned, unsure of what I believed. “The weather is screwing with her habits.”


A second later my phone went off. I jumped too quickly to check it, and Jenny didn’t even bother to look. She just started laughing before stealing the last of my drink. I tried to smile almost as hard as I tried to stand up, and I was mildly successful at them both. When I was finally stable she kissed my cheek and slapped my ass.


“Go. You need it this time, but so does she. And don’t let her forget it. You’re a good one.”


I wobbled as I felt my heartbeat quicken.


“I’ll do my best,” I said, stumbling towards the door and the cool crisp air blowing in from the street.

No matter what else happened, and no matter how long she stayed, Autumn had come.


We Were Kids

“We were kids,” I told her over coffee. “We didn’t know what we were doing.”


“Don’t try to brush it aside just because we were young. And besides we didn’t do it terribly. Considering the chemicals rushing through our bodies and the thoughts rushing through our heads, we weren’t bad at all. I bet you’d give anything for a kiss like that again.”


We hadn’t seen each other in fifteen years, but somehow we came back to each other instantly. The touch of her hand, the smell of her perfume—still Chanel—and the rise of her lip when she poked fun at me were as familiar as the taste of the coffee.


“I’m just saying, we where what? Fifteen? We fumbled through everything, and I’m sure I didn’t have a fucking clue what I was doing, other than being desperate for your skin. Hell, desperate for your attention. Desperate for anything at all.”


She leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes for a moment, the look on her face so clear and easy that I almost loughed.


“You were sixteen. I was fifteen,” she reminded me. “And someone being desperate for my skin the way you were, would be… I don’t know what it would be. All I know is that I miss that longing, that worry, and that sense of wonder when everything was new. Christ, you must have spent an hour between my legs the first time, listening to me moan and as you tried everything you could think of to do with your tongue. There’s a lot to be said for enthusiasm. When was the last time you went down on a girl like she was magic?”


It was my turn to close my eyes and try to remember her taste. Try to remember the unbearable anticipation the first time I slid her panties off her hips, saw her brown curls and soft lips. Try to remember my heart beating like is hasn’t in years at the simple possibility of kissing a thigh and hearing a moan.


“We never even fucked,” I finally said, wondering as the words left my mouth if they meant anything at all.


“We didn’t think we were fucking, but we were so wrong. Your tongue, my hands, you knee between my legs, hell, it was all fucking. Your kiss was fucking. Your fingers in my hair were fucking. I don’t think we did anything else, even when we simply held hands beneath the table at dinner.”


“We were young,” I mumbled again, trying to remember the present. There was no point in nostalgia. No point in trying to get something back that we lost years ago. There was no point.


“Close your eyes,” she whispered, leaning in closely. I put my mug down and my whole body tensed as I sat upright. I had no idea what she was going to do, but my heart wouldn’t stop, and my head was spinning.


Without a word her mouth touched mine, her tongue pushing between my lips in a kiss that was tender, strong, and without any skill at all.


“What was that?” I asked, when she finally pulled away.


“That was me fucking you,” she said with a smile.



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.


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.


(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.


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.


Daisy Danger’s entry!

Jack Stratton’s entry!


“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.”



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.


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.


Sunshine and Shadow

“I want to fuck you in the sunshine,” I whispered, pulling her closer to me. She was standing in front of me, my arms around her waist, in a dress that was so short even the squirrels were looking. She arched her neck and nibbled my ear, her voice teasing and firm.

“What’s stopping you?”

“People, the police, children, insecurity, whatever you have on under this dress. All the normal things,” I said, my hands on her thighs and moving up. The park was crowded, the sun was hot, and there was nowhere to hide. There was nowhere to slip off to and nowhere duck into.

“So, does this help?” she asked, easily wiggling her panties down beneath her dress and stuffing them into her purse. “I mean, that’s one of five. What were the other reasons?”

“I’m not sure I remember,” I whispered, my hand between her legs, feeling her warm and wet from more than just the sun. “And maybe that’s best. Would you stop me? Can I just fuck you right here on the grass, right here in the park, right here in front of the world?”

“You mean in the sunshine?” she asked, turning and facing me, her hand pressed firmly against my hardness. “Can you fuck me here without being afraid? Here without hiding? Here without caring about anything but how much you love and want me?”

“Yes,” I said, struggling to kiss her. Struggling to let the world go, and struggling to not care.

“Don’t be silly,” she said, stepping away. “There are children and cops, and people and stuff. And besides, who has the nerve? I don’t believe you. Trying to fuck me in the park.”

I watched her laugh as she ran off into the brambles, her short dress hiding nothing. I counted to three before following, and there was no turning back.

“Someone is in trouble,” I said, when I finally caught up with her. I was vaguely trying to hide my excitement as I chased her down the path, but it was the least of my worries.

“I certainly hope so,” she said, kissing me once more as we fell to the ground in the shadows.

I Want More

“Put this on,” I said, handing her a blindfold in the elevator.


“Here? What if someone sees me?” She took it reluctantly, but wrapped it around her head anyway.


“How would you even know?” I asked, watching her tie it in place. I took her hand and waited before the elevator stopped on our floor. She took a deep breath when the door opened, and I lead her out and down the hall. The room was just a couple doors down, and she trembled as she walked the few steps, her heels digging into the thick carpet.


I slid my card into the door, and pushed her gently through. He was sitting on the edge of the bed as we had discussed, his cock already hard in his hand. Without waiting another second I brought her to the center of the room, pushed her to her knees, and then lifted her chin.


“You’re going to suck his cock now,” I whispered. He pulled her head to him before she could say a word, and her lips opened around him as she reached up and wrapped her hand around his thick cock. I let her suck him for a few minutes before I gave her another direction.


“Pull your dress off your shoulders. Let him see you.”


Without taking his cock from her mouth she slid the straps down, exposing her breasts to him for the first time. He groaned as he stared at her, her hands instantly going back to his cock once more.


“Stand,” I said, my fingers in her hair. I lifted her up in front of him. “Take it off.”


Her dress fell to the ground and she was completely naked, her legs shaking as she stood, still blindfolded in front of us.


“Is she wet?” I asked him. He reached his hand out instantly, gently touching her pussy before pushing two fingers inside her. He looked up and smiled, nodding his head.


“She’s soaking,” he said.


“Are you ready to get fucked?” I asked her. She nodded and whimpered the word yes, almost too quietly for us to hear. I pushed her forward, bending her over the bed and asked her again.


“Yes,” she said much louder.


“Yes, what?” I asked, as he stood up next to me. I had my cock out as well, and each of us rolled a condom down as we stared at her ass and cunt.


“Yes, I’m ready to be fucked,” she whispered again.


“By who?” I asked, wondering if she knew the correct answer.


“Anyone,” she said, her voice straining as she parted her legs in anticipation. “I don’t care, just someone fuck me. Please!”


“Good girl,” I said, as he stepped behind her and slid his cock inside her tight cunt in an instant. She let out a long moan as he started to fuck her, and I watched while he pushed her further onto the bed, her pussy stretching around him. A minute later I took his place, her whimper just lasting the few seconds without someone inside her. I slammed into her as well, fucking her harder as she collapsed forward. I slapped her ass and fucked her as hard as I could, before finally rolling her over onto her back.


“Take it off,” I told her. Trembling she reached up and undid the blindfold, her eyes instantly blinded by the dim light in the room. She looked back and forth between us, smiling as she opened her legs. We crawled towards, her, pulling her thighs open wider.


“More,” she said, leaning up and kissing him for the first time. “I want more.”


(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 if you enjoy the free content we post here.)

Paris in The Rain

His cock reminded her of Paris in the rain. It reminded her of Machu Pichu at sunset and the blue green lights over the empty snows of the Yukon. His cock reminded her of everything beautiful in the world and she came around it like she was impaled on the tower of Babylon. She scratched his chest and slapped his face as her orgasm ripped through her and she called him a name that was almost his.


“Get the fuck out,” she said as her body began to return to itself.


He was lying in her bed, but she had moved to the window with a cigarette clutched in her hand. She flicked open her Zippo and said it again. It took three times before he responded, but by the time she was halfway finished he was closing the door behind him.


“Why God, why?” she whispered.  “Why does that cock have to be attached to that man?”