He pulls his hard dick out through the slit of his boxer briefs, stroking it slowly as he watches the two girls. I take a long drag, filling my lungs with minty smoke, and squat down for a more comfortable view. Leaving the cigarette pressed between my lips, I pull off Christina’s jean jacket and spread…
Stepping off the last of the balcony’s steps, a warm summer breeze blows my cigarette smoke back into my face. The crowd above me whoops and hollers over juvenile drinking games. “How did I end up back in this town,” I grumble, having taken to the habit of talking to myself over the past few…
Nothing with Cecil was off-limits. He made me feel truly comfortable with my sexuality. Any ideas I wanted to add into the bedroom, he welcomed with open arms. He satisfied my every sexually whim. I had found a man I could do bad things with. The photo shoot was my idea. I was in my prime and in Los Angeles.…
Slick with massage oil, his hands caressed over my bare back. They glided over my taunt muscles with just enough pressure to locate areas of tension without my initial fear of being broken. I felt like I was melting into the table. Paul broke the silence. “How’s the pressure?” I moaned pleasurably, no longer caring about…
I was excited for my preplanned three-day coma when Becky offered an impromptu massage at a new spa. Since lunch I’d been counting down the minutes until I could crawl into my soft bed, turn on my sound machine, and sleep until Monday morning. After a month of late nights and early mornings, we had finally…
The swirl of passion and fantasy wraps around us like a third lover. Finally naked, we caress each other body’s’ like curious explorers taking it all in; the view, the taste, the feeling. His skin is smooth and ticklish. I could just stare at him until daybreak and it would still be the best night…
The hotel lock light switches from red to green after a couple flashes. He pushes the door and holds it open with his extended arm for me to enter. It is an exact clone of mine with the same neutral commercial carpet, matching topaz bed runner and curtains, and dim black lamp on each flat surface. Aside…
After making out on my bed for what seems like an eternity, my thespian asks, “Do you always kiss like that?” Taken back, chunks of shaky silent stumbles out of my mouth between words, “Yeah. No? I don’t know.” How drunk am I? Until I blurt, “Why?” in the bitchiest tone I know. “I can tell you’re…
Our romance is a three-act tragedy on its final decline. I feel like an actress playing the part of interested date. When he kisses me, I can taste his want and longing. He reeks of commitment and desperation. Laying on a couch too formal for his apartment, I watch while he fumbles around in the kitchen. He twists and turns in…
My husband holds out an unwrapped red Popsicle directly in front of my face. I look up at him from the dining chair. “Thanks.” Though it’s early in the afternoon, encroaching summer is already raising the temperature. He’s donning only periwinkle blue boxer briefs and mismatching socks, while his beard hides his chest like a…
After a few more steps away from the house, I awkwardly perfect a 180-degree turn in my stilettos. Not an easy feat considering more than my shoes. His forearms press against the doorframe as he arches his long, lean body into the daylight. “Drive safe.” he says as he waves but his words dissolve somewhere…
“Is it alright if I hold you?” John says as his deep brown eyes gaze down. Yes. Yes. Yes. Please. Hold me. Touch me. My body feels like it will leap out of my skin before I can answer him. A weak surrendering moan escapes my face as it crashes into his torso and my fatigue arms encircle…
The patio is our only refuge from tonight’s heat. I glance down at my wristwatch then hold it close to my ear and listen. Nothing, no ticks. It feels about two or three in the morning. However, it could just as easily be hours in either direction. Time didn’t seem consistent anymore, not after Mallory.…
Part 1: Fucking Under the Influence I keep inhaling the diminishing joint as his eyes move around the room frantically. “Ashtray,” I remind him, holding the quarter-inch of stacked ember dust to his face. He carries me closer to the desk, where I drop the J onto an overflowing receptacle of blunt roaches and gray ash.…
“You’ve come a long way,” I joke glancing around the basement. “This one is bigger.” Half of the space is a graveyard of bicycles and parts. The other half is a makeshift bedroom composing of several mostly deflated air mattresses piled on each other and a couple of cheap plastic drawers overflowing with black shirts.…
Any attempt to hear the bathroom lock over the noise of the airplane is futile. Standing in front of the bi-folding metal door, prepared to leave, or at least having the appearance of leaving if anyone pressed through the unlocked opening. I take a deep breath before pushing the aperture into a pleat and step…
Solider is not my usual musician or pretty boy. He is the epitome of a military man; a rough face with matching hands, covered in numerous scars, and his prominent nose looks like it has been broken more than once. His muscles are a work related fallout, not just for show. He is a real life G.I. Joe complete…
