writingdirty

Dirty stories by Jack Stratton

Tag: switching

Final Meal

He sliced the exotic fruit with a huge knife on the perfect cutting board. Furry greenish gray splitting to show vivid green and neat circles of black seeds.

She sipped her coffee and watched him with annoyance. There was some kind of distracting formality he put into things that should be simple, like cutting up fruit. It was one of the million things that once seemed charming, but now annoyed the shit out of her.

She couldn’t watch any more as he took his oh-so-sharp knife and pealed the fur off of the thing. She went into the bathroom to finish putting on her makeup.

There was something about her silent huffy irritation with everything. She acted like a teenager irked at the fact that her parents existed. That’s what their relationship had become, something akin to parental, maybe sibling, which made the fact that the sex was still so potent something rather awkward to think about.

She came back from the bathroom to find a plate with six neat slices of the fruit fanned out in a half minimalist half elaborate statement on the little white plates they had gotten from her grandmother.

“We need to break up.” she breathed out.
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Wake Up

Somewhere in between dreams I heard the shower start.

Opening my eyes some time later I found myself bathed in gray light coming through white linen curtains. Then I watched the naked legs of a woman in a towel walking back and forth in front of me as I laid on my side trying to decide whether I was awake or not. Occasionally those legs were followed by a nervous black cat who batted at the towel.

There were the distant smells of soap, shampoo, perfume, and all those sweet feminine scents I associated with her.

For a few moments sleep took me again, like an undertow dragging me into the waves.

Seconds or minutes or hours later I awoke with a start and sensed her near. She was far less nervous than the cat. Continue reading

How Jack Bottoms

In exploring BDSM in a variety of ways I found my base power position (top) relatively quickly. I like to be the one doing things, hitting, fucking, tying, commanding, humiliating, etc. The complexities of topping versus service topping and other mixed dynamics certainly came up later, but have never really concerned me. I feel like I am naturally toppy, especially in many of the relationships I have been in so far, but that’s not all I am. I contain multitudes and stuff, you know the deal.
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