I need to touch. It’s what I crave and it’s why I chose this line of work. Here, I’m paid to use touch to bring pleasure to others. In turn, through my hands and what I give, I receive pleasure. I love my work, I am good at it, and I am fortunate to get as much out of it as my clients do. Most of my clients are women. This also suits me, because I love women’s bodies. All of them. And, I know that every woman is sexy in h...

We hug all the time. We are friends. It is part of our daily interaction. We have never been lovers and we never will be. It is simply not an option between us, nor do I want it to be. We are only friends and will always be only friends. However…I will not deny to myself that you intrigue me. I will not deny that every time we touch there is a pleasurable connection. You feel good, and I like it. I like the way you feel....

The mountain air is cool. The canopy is thick and shields the forest floor from the sun. I am lucky to be alone. Everyone has gone and I can enjoy the quiet. I step out of the cabin and pause, taking in. The sounds. The smells. All of it. The wind rustles the leaves and a slice of sunshine finds it way to my face. Immediately, I feel refreshed and peaceful. I want more of that. I set off down the path, shedding clothing a...

For me, he is Paris and cigarettes. He takes me to a time when I was younger and the world was gritty: a time of experimentation and wonder. I have not passed into antiquity, but I have passed into experience. When he comes to me, I return to that raw, passionate time. He takes me back. Back to first times. Newness. Introductions. To the me that was purely myself. He transports me. It is his time now, as it once was mine....

Dark water surrounds me. Dark and cool. The air is hot. Too hot. That’s why I am here. It is the middle of the night and I cannot sleep for the heat. My mind wants to sleep, but my body is awake, so I come to the water.   I float here, in the deep end, on my back, with my ears under the water. That keeps the sounds away. Like this, I can float both in the water and in my own head. There are echoes from the outside world,...

“Did you bring a toy with you?” he asks. “No. I didn’t need to. I have one right here.” “I’m not a toy. I’m a real boy!” This makes me laugh out loud. “See, I’m telling lies. Right now.” My giggles continue to spill forth as I feel him filling me. I encourage him: “Lie to me!” And he did for a little while. That climax, however, was anything but.

I am a writer. Acuario is a tattoo artist. I am American. He is Mexican. We have an interesting relationship. Two creative personalities. Two very different cultures. If he pisses me off. I don’t yell. I don’t throw things. I challenge his authority. In front of his friends. This both angers and excites him. If I piss him off, he doesn’t talk. He fucks me. But he makes me wait. This both frustrates me and keeps me wanting...

I watch his hips. Trim and muscular. Hips and thighs. Tight ass behind. And in front. His dick. That beautiful dick. Just below beautiful abs. It is hard with soft skin that slides so smoothly. Crowned with hair that tickles so nicely. He crawls over me. Hands and arms on either side. One leg bends, knee on the mattress, taking his weight as he moves up my body. The air is cool on my naked skin, so I feel his warmth. I op...

How is it possible that I can feel you this intensely and be a void all at once? I am sick with longing, yet my skin still burns from your touch. I have heard of this feeling. I have scoffed at those who have said these things. I have not believed. I do now. Our parting was necessary. I know that. But it took away my breath. I cannot breathe. I need the breath of your kiss. We did not have enough time. Perhaps, we had too...

His lips were full and sensuous. Incredibly erotic. Unbelievable. She had never had the opportunity to kiss lips like that. She could put on an outward mask, but she could not lie to herself. She desperately wanted to. That is why she had made him promise. He could not kiss her. That would cross a line. And he had agreed. He had. He was her massage therapist. Hands were acceptable. Lips were not. But he was playing a tric...

We have no choice. We have to part. But, in that parting, I want to leave a mark on you; an impression that will not fade easily. This is how I want to say good-bye to you. I want you to feel me come. I want your fingers to be inside of me and I want to look at you looking at me as I come around them. I want to know that you feel my body grasping desperately at yours because that is how I feel about our parting. Covetous....

She needs to be touched. That is why she went to him. He needs to touch. That is why he is there. That is why he has chosen this work.   It is her turn. He comes to fetch her. She inhales. She exhales.   He introduces her to the room. He leaves, allowing her to prepare.   She inhales. She exhales.   He returns. He touches her.   He touches her like beauty does not exist. Perhaps it is more accurate to say that he touches...

She could feel his dick through the smooth linen of his pants. It felt perfect and she wished that she could see it. Her hands were a perfect gauge as to what would fit her body and, as she stroked one, tentatively, over him she could feel that it would fill her grasp generously, and just enough. That was good. She didn’t like really long dicks. She needed stimulation to come and she didn’t like to use her hand while she...

“I have an idea for some stories. I think I might want to be a writer.”“That’s cool. What do you want to write about?”“I am not 100% sure yet. But, if so many people are making their livings from blogs and twitter and all that other social media opinion crap that they spout, why not me too? And then there is that Kindle self-publishing stuff. I thought I might give it a try. I am sure I could write a book. Anyway, I won’t...

She was a dancer. He loved dancing. He loved watching it. He loved doing it. He saw her, for the first time, at a restaurant. He had gone there to eat a meal and there she was, performing. At the sight of her, he was unable to eat his meal. All he could do was watch her. The stage was tiny, but she did not need much space to move. She could have danced her whole set in three square feet. That was how tight her moves were....