Greedy

Desperation was the name of the game. She checked her phone like one checked on a wound, constantly, carefully, waiting for any sign of change.

The buzz of his message sent a shiver through her, right to the bone; right to her greedy cunt.

“Be over at 7:15. I’ll have you under my desk while I work. You can touch yourself while you suck me off but don’t make a sound and when I come don’t dare spill a drop.” read more

Garter Boy

He knelt on the hardwood, the cracks of the old Lower East Side apartment’s aging floor pressing against his knees through the thin material of his black tuxedo trousers.

The giggling around the room was pervasive, as were the popping of champagne bottles and the clinking of glasses, but when order was called for and the time was announced, the women lined up near the boy on his knees.

A slinky black sheath dress was pulled up to the waist and he was eye level to a neat triangle of black hair and that slit that made him groan with need. She coughed impatiently and he got to work. read more

Focus

Her skin was polaroid film. A slap like the snap of the shudder and the red outline of my hand resolved.

She squirmed and writhed, her ass moving back and forth, like shaking a picture.

A few more hits and she slowly developed into my perfect bruised beauty.

Eyes and Hands

Of the many strange and wonderful things I’ve seen in the past few years, few were as surprising as the tableau I glimpses as the elevator doors opened to the party in the penthouse of the fancy downtown hotel. It was amazing, beautiful, decadent, breathtaking, and also pretty fucking weird.

Actually it wasn’t just one penthouse, but three, all opened up to the others to form a sort of club, with a DJ, two different bars, and various sexy and kinky accoutrements. Massage tables, a Saint Andrew’s cross, contraptions I didn’t know the names of for tying people to or fucking people against.

I’d been to somewhat similar events, but usually they were at somewhat seedy locals with a crowd that was a mixed bag. This took everything to a new level. The whole place was opulent, clean, organized, and all of the people there were beautiful. Some were waif like model beautiful, others curved and busty beautiful, others wild hair burner beautiful. There were all kinds of beautiful. Big Chippendale dancer looking beautiful. Assess chap beautiful. Beautiful. (I know I’m teetering into that place where you repeat a word until it has no meaning, but anyway.) read more

Dinner Party

Bethany Paige had beautiful huge round wine glasses. They were fish bowls with stems. Not only were they enormous, but there were so many of them. There had to be twenty-five people stuffed into her Williamsburg loft and every guest held one of these goblets. Plus there were a few dozen more perfectly arranged in a square on the butcher block topped island in her kitchen.

It was a weird thing to get hung up on, but I often got hung up on weird things. Did she rent these glasses? Did she buy them all at once?

I swirled the blood red wine in my glass and wondered what level of adulthood one had to attain to make a glassware purchase of that magnitude. read more

Crush

When they got back to his apartment she bumped into him and almost fell over as he showed her around the living room. As always she was mortified by her clumsiness.

“Sorry I can’t see that well without my glasses,” she mumbled, looking down at her feet.

She couldn’t look him in the eyes. Her crush was overpowering. She swooned just being in his presence. The fact that she was in his apartment was making her dizzy. read more

Couch

There was familiar comfort in the deep couch. There was a knowledge that if one sat on that couch, they would sink back and possibly never get up.

But that’s what we wanted at that moment.

It was cold and raining outside. A bitter and cruel wind we could hear rattling the windows and heavy droplets that battered the building. Yet the whistle of a Manhattan radiator made the apartment almost too hot. read more

Complicated Knot

Her wrists get tied together, as do her ankles. My rope is old now, which sets off complicated feelings. Eight years since I got the tan hemp and it still has the same smell, though now it is worlds softer.

I don’t remember when it started feeling so comfortable in my hands, but I like it. I know the right knots. Maybe not the perfect knots, but ones I can tie fast and pretty and strong.

Some people need tight intricate ties or they will squirm out, but not her. She is the kind of girl who wouldn’t dream of escape. She is the kind of girl that sits and stays when told. read more

Chalkboard

It was a thunder crack when he smacked her, then a still moment as the world went silent, then lightning behind her eyes. Everything vibrating and swimming. Blood rushing in her ears, her face heating and turning red, her vision blurring, and then finally his face coming back into focus.

He was right in front of her, filling her line of sight, his hand closing back around her neck.

They sat on the blonde parquet floor, both cross legged, her back against the cool eggshell wall. He sat in front of her, just as straight backed as she was, facing her, their knees touching. read more

Burdon

In her eyes, forever, there was a Midwest kindness. But then New York City had let her down and most of the time she was sad under those thick black bangs.

It wasn’t exactly shame that shown in her face when she climbed the stairs to my apartment, but burden. Her kinks were a hassle and she wished she could come some other way, but she was stuck with her desires.

It concerned me, to a point, but there came a time when I had to trust in her ability to make up her own mind. read more