It started as my challenge in the park: Outlast twenty moves, win twenty dollars. Her husband accepted. It seemed they were out for dinner; begrudgingly, she held his suit jacket. I initially took her flirtatious glances as disinterest in chess. But then she suggested a move with a nod and I knew her strategies transcended the game. I was right. The first time we fucked, she shoved her ring in my cunt then licked my essen...

She asks to see his palm. He considers her for a moment then upturns his right hand and places it against her naked belly, still glistening with a sheen of sweat. He had first noticed her in the university bookstore. She didn’t strike him as a student. She wasn’t. Her voice had been carrying as if it had wings, bouncing over the rows and rows of books. It wasn’t a shrill voice, nor was it loud, just powerful and forward....

I am here because I choose to be here. I am where I want to be. It is not by any force other than my own free will that the actions dictating my state are what they are. I do not believe in a singular event or circumstance taking on weight so dense that it changes the course of one’s path. Call it destiny, call it fate. It is mere fact that any one person can enter your life with such impact that they forever remain just...

“Dennis...you with us?” Love is such a fucked up beast. Powerful. It claws at you, making you do crazy shit just for the shot at having that one special person in your heart. It forces you to nurture and defend simultaneously. While your subconscious mind often feels the deceit of this conflict, your entire being cannot be fooled. “Dennis?” And when you are driven to end a relationship, there always seems to be a part of...

He settles himself, letting the hardened cock lay in his palm for a moment before swaddling his hand around its girth. He admires its delicacy, tenderly tracing the veins that run like some type of erotic roadmap. With a squeeze, he can feel the thrumming pulse through his fingertips. It matches his own. Ashton looks up to see a single bead of spittle dangling at the end of an elongated strand of drool. It glistens—for a...

And they’re at it again. Every fucking Tuesday it’s the same. Once his wife leaves, he scurries to set up the kitchen. Then the mistress arrives; passion burning in her eyes. Something about using her hands in mechanical ways lights her with a sugar-fever pitch. Powdering her own tits then kneading them while he laps her cherry-like nipples. For him, it’s apparent that getting dirty is the kink. Dipping the head of his co...

Glassy streets shimmer in the aftermath of a recent spate. Lifeless tarmac shining like ribbons of obsidian under a here-and-there smattering of yellow-lighted street lamps. If the cold rain hadn’t already emptied them, the late hour would have. A dark figure, hunched for warmth, skits along with a determined stride, furtively ducking through a black door marked with four white exes. A puff of misty breath swirls in his w...

The road stretches for miles, straight and narrowing to a pinpoint that looks as if it will lead us right off the edge of the Earth. I press the accelerator of my vintage, seafoam-green pickup to speed us along the pencil-drawn freeway at a steady clip. Dips in the pavement gather puddles of thermal waves in blurry reflective undulations; each vanishing as we approach. Hills line either side like outstretched welcoming ar...

I’d never truly appreciated the power of touch until I lost both breasts to genetics. The hubby hung in for as long as he could, but I set him free. It was only fair. He’d lived through the anguish and my scars killed the passion.  It was Lauren, a nurse, who opened my eyes; the sensual way she ran fingers over the hardened tissue. Perhaps it was inappropriate and plausible she had some weird fetish. Regardless, there was...

Curse that needCoursing through my veinsSingeing within my bloodOrchestrating the acheThe throb between my legs.Damn that heat which melts meAs if I were nothingA body made of a waxA tangled fray of nervesVictim to the lust,Fire-soaked in my heart. I abandon my unsatisfying fingersTheir only purposeTo teaseTraipsing through my pleasureMy wet and dripping center.I do not want their fitful filling of my holesTo complete me....

They weren’t ever supposed to beMore than those three words… I love you They were supposed to remain hidden,Buried in the secrets of our skin,Camouflaged by the furtive touches,Safely shieldedBehind the depth of our stare. But they bubbled to the surface,Penetrated every other time they had been saidIn some platonic peck of affection,And they weren’t just spoken,They spilled from your lipsLike they had weight,A gravity pu...

“Turn...around,” he says slowly, sternly.  He is seated, not far from her, watching with avid intent. She doesn’t move, just stands there staring back at him. Frozen. Intimidated. With a downward angling index finger, he makes a swirling motion as if to provide a visual aid to his request. “Tuuurn.” The single syllable draws out with fluid serenity. She remains still, hands clasped, one over the top of the other and nestl...

Liam rolled off her, flopping onto the springy mattress, trying to catch his breath. His cock was still semi-hard, glistening in the neon light that glowed through the unshaded hotel window. A translucent mixture of their combined cum made his shiny dick look like some sort of salacious glowstick.  The cheap bed still swayed a bit from the momentum of their fuck. He stared up to the popcorn ceiling, wearing only the black...

Her grip tightens around his throat. Thumbs are crisscrossed as fingers curl into the flesh under his angled jaw. Squeezing.  His eyes gaze up at her blankly, still folded with life but somewhat empty and faded. She can tell that his seedy mind is conjuring lewd thoughts, sucking them in through the stare to release an explosion of endorphins. Coursing them through the bloodstream for his balls to suckle up like two starv...

Shilah crouched. One boot planted firmly on the ground with her leather-clad ass cheek balanced steadily on the heel of her opposite foot. Lithe fingers wrapped tensely around the shaft of a spear but her breathing was controlled; slow and steady. Regulated and practiced.  The surrounding forest air was spongy and humid, not a lick of breeze, which was cloaking her from detection. Rivulets of sweat cut lines through the g...