Guy New York: Erotica Author and General Debaucher


Guy New York is a bestselling erotica author and publisher with more than 30 titles to his name. With two full length novels, numerous short works, and a thousand free stories on his blog Quickies in New York, his books have been widely read and occasionally burned.

You can find all of his books here, as well as on Amazon and Barnes and Noble. He also runs a dirty bookstore at 

Beach and Boardwalk Smut for the Summer

I’m about halfway through (just over 15K words) the sequel to Susanna’s Affairs, so of course, I had to take a break and start playing with covers.

So far they’ve gotten to the beach, blown some dudes (okay one each) and gotten blackmailed by a couple of sisters. I guess we’ll see where it goes!

Here’s a preview of my super rough draft, cause why the hell not:

“It wasn’t really all that, to be honest. We sat on his porch for a few moments, and I suppose I let him kiss me.”

“Just a kiss, my dear?” Nicholas asked.

“Well, since I was so stubborn and refused to admit that you might be correct, not all that much was on the table. Why is it you know me so well?”

“You can’t stop there!” Her husband exclaimed. Susanna had a tendency to toy with him and he found that his imagination was often far more extravagant than the troubles she usually got into.

“We kissed on his porch like I said, and he did manage to get a hand under my dress.”

Susanna got up and slid over to her husband’s lap before continuing her story.

“He was quite talented with his fingers,” she whispered as she touched his cheek. “He parted my thighs and touched me right there on his porch where anyone could see us, and I nearly came right then. In less than a minute he had pulled himself from his trousers and placed my hand on his erection. It was difficult to focus, but I managed to toy with him through our kisses and his finger work.”

“There’s my girl,” Nicholas said, sliding his hand beneath her dress, up her thigh, and then against her warm sex. She wore nothing under the thin cotton and he parted her lips with a practiced familiarity.

“All the while he kept whispering in my ear about how he wanted to fuck me. He told me he would take me right there by the street, and he would make me scream until the neighbors complained. He said he wanted to fuck me a hundred times, and by the time I dropped to my knees, I suspect both of us were close to finished.”

“And did he?” Nicholas asked, touching her with more and more force and attention. “Did you let him fuck you right there? Did you let him fill this perfect cunt of mine?”

“I wanted to,” she moaned, as her husband worked his fingers inside her. “I wanted to so badly, but I was stubborn and had told you I wouldn’t, so instead I took him into my mouth as I touched myself. Please don’t stop.”

“Did you tell him?” he asked, his fingers moving up to her clitoris just as she liked. “Did you tell him you wanted him too? Did you tell him you wanted to fuck him but you promised your husband that you wouldn’t?”

“Yes,” she moaned, kissing his neck and his ear as she writhed on his lap, his other hand now on her neck as he held her tightly. “I told him I wanted him inside me. I told him I wanted to fuck him, but I couldn’t. Not yet.”

“And did that make him come, my dear? Did your words make him come.”

“It was my mouth,” Susanna moaned, feeling herself about to let go. “I sucked him into my throat and ran my hand up and down his length. He was so thick and so hard that it was all I could do to resist. Finally, I moved up and down so quickly that he called out, and before I could do anything at all, he was coming in my mouth until I nearly gagged from it.”

“Such a good girl,” Nicholas said, squeezing her harder as he continued touching her. He could tell she was close, but she needed just one more push. “When will you fuck him?”

“What do you mean?” she asked, as she clenched around his fingers.

“Tell me when you’ll give in. I want you to decide right now. To make a plan for it. I want you to tell me right this moment when you’ll go back to his house, crawl onto his lap and take his cock inside you until you come. Tell me now!”

“In the morning,” she moaned as she started to come. Nicholas let up on her throat just enough for her to gasp for air, but his fingers never stopped. “I’ll fuck him tomorrow. I can’t wait any longer….”

Write More Erotica!

I was chatting about writing smut yesterday and got to thinking about it a little. If you’re going to write (and share) dirty things, here are some of the things you will most likely worry about:

Will they think I’m gross?

Am I the only person who thinks this is hot?

Am I a huge creep or a perv in a non-sexy way?

Will someone think it’s about them (or not)?

Am I a crap writer?

Is there really a point in sharing this?

Will my mother read this?

Will I get nasty messages about it?

Will anyone actually get off to this?

What am I doing with my life?

So, let yourself ask these questions without needing to answer them and then go ahead and write it and share it anyway. I’ve written and published 35 dirty books in the last six years, and I still think nearly every one of these every time I so much as share a paragraph of smut anywhere.

I can promise you that if you think it’s hot, someone else will too. Always.

Anonymous Sex Service (A work in progress)

Blurry threesome through a window

Photo by The Dirty Gentleman

I was doing exactly as I had been instructed, so of course, I was terrified.

The room was dimly lit, which was strange for a dressing lounge, but at least it was clean. The mirror in front of me fogged instantly, which meant I didn’t have to look at my face. I didn’t have to see my nervous excitement or the lines under my eyes from not sleeping the night before. Of course, he wouldn’t see any of that either. At least not really. I tried to count the seconds to distract myself, and I must have looked at my watch six times to be sure of the time. Without even realizing it I was constantly holding my breath before letting it out once more. I had thirty seconds before he was supposed to arrive, whoever he was. I had twenty more seconds of standing there in the empty room with my hands on the wall, my skirt around my waist, and my panties around my ankles. I had ten seconds left before I let a stranger fuck me.

Maybe I should start at the beginning because I’m still not sure I believe it. Who would? When Jessie told me of the service I didn’t believe her either, and besides, who would want it? Fantasy was one thing, but the reality was a whole different ball game and it sounded as horrifying as it did anything else. We were having drinks and oysters at Sel Rrose when she first told me, and I didn’t believe her for a second. She leaned back in her chair with a look on her face that reminded me of my mother after her third glass of scotch. It was bliss and stupidity all mixed into one smile, and I nearly spat out the oyster in my mouth.

“Why would you do that?” I asked, making sure to swallow the little oyster. It was too good to waste.

“You have no idea,” Jessie said. “It’s not even about the sex. I mean, it is, of course, but that’s not the whole thing. It’s about the freedom and the excitement. It’s about the risk and the fear and the adrenaline. Besides, Gary is about as interested in sex these days as he is in ballet.”

“So you just let a stranger fuck you. Do you at least get a drink out of it?” I was trying to laugh about it because it was all so ridiculous. I understand hook up culture, and I had my share of it in college and even for a year or two after. Tinder, OkCupid, hell, even eHarmony all have their place, but after a while, those hooks up are just exhausting. Listening to one man after another go on about things I don’t care about just for a half hour of mediocre sex just wasn’t worth it. I’d rather spend times with friends, go out for dinner with people I actually know, and end up in bed with my Hitatchi and no questions. It’s just so much simpler.

“It doesn’t work like that. Haven’t you listened at all? I told you, it’s not a dating service. It’s not about meeting people, in fact, it’s almost the opposite. The point isn’t to find a partner or even to have an affair. The entire point is to enjoy yourself, get exactly what you want, and not have to worry about anything else. When was the last time you just got off without having to think?”

“Last night. Come on, I’m not in high school, I can get myself off without having to worry about a damn thing.”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it. But look, I was skeptical the first time too. I had to fill out a thousand forms, even go to their damn medical office in midtown, and even then I didn’t really get it. I assumed I would be talking to someone. That at least I’d chat with the guy, even if it was just to set up the details, but it doesn’t work like that.”

“Fine, so how does it work?”

“They do everything. I’m serious. You just answer the questions, and the rest is up to them. All I do is click the button on the app that says I’m ready, and within an hour I get directions. I can narrow it down a little if I want to, but that’s it. Do you want to see?”

“Are you serious?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at her. Jesse has always been adventurous, but this seemed like a bit much. I knew she wasn’t a stranger to having affairs either, but still. Anonymous sex just didn’t seem like her cup of tea.

“Totally. I can click the button right now and they’ll hook me up. I mean, it’s not cheap, but it’s quick and easy. Seriously, I could be getting laid in fifteen minutes without ever having to talk to anyone. It’s like Uber for sex. But without a chatty driver. It’s amazing.”

“You don’t talk to them at all?”

“You can’t. That’s part of the deal. I mean, you can say, oh yeah, just like that, fuck me harder. But you can’t try to have a conversation. They’ll report you and you’re out. That’s the deal. No exchange of information, no pictures, no numbers. You go, you fuck, and you leave. If you try to find out who someone is you’re out. If you ask them anything at all you’re out. It’s just sex. Quick and easy.”

“I can’t tell if you’ve lost your mind or if you’ve found something perfect. Either way, I don’t believe it though. How do they get away with it? And aren’t you worried about catching something? I mean, they wear condoms right?”

Jesse just looked into her drink and shrugged. I stared at her, my mouth open as she picked up another oyster and swallowed it. There was no way it wasn’t safe. This was 2016, not 1974. It was ridiculous.

“Jess, you’re not serious!”

“I told you, you have to get tested first. That’s the whole point, Tina. You don’t have to worry about anything. You just get to fuck a stranger.”

“Without a condom on?” I asked again, trying to make her admit it out loud. Trying to make her admit how fucked up the whole thing was. She just shrugged again and smiled at me like I was missing some inside fucking joke. It was ridiculous, and I didn’t want to talk about it anymore. Dating was scary enough, but this was insane. I mean, sure, I like to get off, and nobody like’s condoms, but that’s not the point. But it wasn’t my life, and she wasn’t my wife. Thankfully.

“Let’s just have another glass of wine and talk about something else,” I finally said.

“Just tell me if you want the referral code. You have to be recommended to get in.”

“I think I’ll be fine without it,” I said, shaking my head.

“Whatever you say, Tina,” she said, waving the waiter over. She ordered another two glasses of wine and six more oysters before putting her phone on the table between us. I watched in silence as she clicked the softly glowing white button in the middle of the app. It turned soft red for just a moment and then it was gone, replaced by a short message I couldn’t read upside down.

“I have another half hour before I have to be at the Rivington Hotel. Cheers! It’s good to catch up. It’s been too long. You know how it is though. Married life, right?”

“Cheers,” I said, raising my wine glass and wondering how my old friend suddenly looked like the happiest girl in the world…

Teacher’s New Toy: Gay Erotic Fiction

I recently published a new stand-alone short story about a graduating high school senior and his hot English teacher. I’ll admit there’s some fanfic of my life going on, but I don’t think we need to get into details. It’s definitely a filthy ride, and probably more on the porn end of the spectrum than anything else. But if you like stories about guys who just beg to be fucked by older men, then it might be up your alley.

You can find it on all the big retailers here.

Click on the image below to find a retailer, or keep scrolling for an excerpt.


“I just really want to be fucked,” I said. I blushed the second the words left my mouth, and I could see the change come over his face in an instant. He went from a patient teacher to something I couldn’t quite describe, except to say I felt small and vulnerable in a heartbeat.

I didn’t know anyone else at the time. I had three weeks before I graduated high school and he was the gayest man I knew. Hell, he was the only gay man I knew, and it didn’t matter that he taught my AP English class. Mr. R. as we all called him, was young, kind, and hot enough that the girls gossiped about him over lunch and the boys all followed him around hoping to one day be as cool.

But I knew he was gay, and I knew he would listen, and so what if he sometimes smiled at me in class and I smiled back? So what if he offered me rides on occasion and let me talk his ear off without ever saying a thing?

But that afternoon, sitting in the front seat of his car, my confession still hanging off my lips, everything changed. He pulled over the second I told him I thought I might be gay, and he listened as I told him about kissing a boy over the weekend and trying to wrap my mind around everything at the same time. He nodded and told me everything would be okay, and I mostly believed him.

I was working through everything at once, but at the time the physical was far easier for me to understand than the emotional side. Kissing the guy had been nice, but it wasn’t nearly enough. I had felt him grow hard through his jeans and I rubbed against him, my hand tracing his length through the tight fabric. And at that moment, my hand on someone else’s cock for the first time in my life, I knew I wanted someone inside me.

“Is that all?” he finally asked, looking at me in the passenger seat as the car instantly warmed to boiling. I nodded because I wasn’t sure what else to say. It felt like the biggest confession of my life, and Mr. R. was treating it like I told him I liked ice cream. As I tried to work it out, I looked back at him and realized in an instant that wasn’t what he meant. And the second I understand, everything else hit me at the same time. He wasn’t dismissive at all. He was asking me what else I wanted, and the truth was a lot more complicated. I had barely let myself fantasize about it, but I was instantly full of more ideas than my brain could handle.

“I had this girlfriend for a while,” I began, trying to explain myself, but still shaking and still confused. “And she liked it when I held her down. She loved it when I fucked her from behind with my arm around her neck as I called her filthy names.”

“And?” he asked, his seatbelt off as he listened. I looked down, almost as embarrassed as I was turned on. The truth may not set me free, but sometimes it makes me hard as a rock.

“I want to be used like that,” I finally said realizing it was true. “I want to be held down and fucked so hard that I lose my mind. Even when I was doing it to her, I knew it wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted to be on the other end of it. I wanted to be the one held down and fucked hard.”

“When do you graduate again?” he asked, a smile crossing his lips.

“Three weeks,” I said, wondering if he was going to say anything more. Wondering if he was going to do anything.

“That’s so fucking long,” he said, looking me up and down, this time with more clarity.

“I am eighteen, though,” I said, moving closer to him even as I felt my heart beat so fast I almost couldn’t breathe. He was a good teacher, and a decent guy and I wanted him so badly none of that mattered. At that moment, his job, his career, hell, even his guilt didn’t matter to me. I had waited so long in admitting what I wanted that waiting anymore felt impossible.

“Fuck,” was all he said, adjusting his cock through his jeans as I watched. He looked at me, and then back at the wheel. I inched closer to him on the bench seat, reaching out slowly with one hand. When I touched his shoulder, he turned and smiled, that feral look once again covering his face.

“I live a few blocks away,” he finally said, looking over his shoulder to the street behind us. It wasn’t busy, but cars drove by every few minutes, and we were not well hidden.

“Take me there,” I mumbled before I finally gave in downright begged. “Please?”

The Summer I Watched: new hotwife erotica

The Summer I Watched, a hotwife erotica novella

The Summer I Watched, a hotwife erotica novella

Guess who is a ridiculous human being and has another new book out because why the hell not?

If you guessed me, you are correct. This one comes from dreaming of summer and hot tubs and pools and sex. Lots and lots of sex. It’s been a good distraction from the rest of my life, and it was tons of fun to write. It’s a novella (about 100 pages long) and it all takes place in a beautiful house in the mountains with one hell of a view.

The short version is the narrator likes to watch people fuck. Like, a lot. And he’d really like to watch his wife fuck someone, but while she likes the fantasy, that’s all it’s ever been.

But then they take in a 20-year-old Irish college student for the summer, and she gets her fingers in everything and makes things happen. Like sex things.

You can read more about it (like an actual blurb) on the book page, and find links to all the places you can buy it if it’s up your alley.

And if you want a free copy in exchange for an honest review, hit me up.

My Dirty Books in the iTunes and Google Play Stores

It’s taken me a long time to get my books up on retailers other than Amazon, but they are finally starting to appear one at a time! And so far, the response has been pretty fantastic. While Amazon is still my biggest sales venue, I’m finding that with books published to all five of the big retailers (Amazon, Apple, Google, Kobo, and B&N) that Amazon only accounts for about half of my sales, which is surprising, to say the least.

I’ve been using Streetlib and Pronoun to get them pushed out, and I can recommend both platforms if you’re interested in self-publishing. They are both easy to use and make it pretty easy to get books out to multiple retailers all at the same time.

If you’re an iTunes reader or a Google Play fan, click on the screenshots below to visit my author page on each platform.

Here’s iTunes:

Guy New York's books in the iTunes store.

Here are all my books in the iTunes store.

And Google Play:

Guy New York erotica in the Google Play Store

Here are my erotica books in the Google Play Store!


Free Cuckold and Hotwife Erotica

A cuckold's Diary: The Places They Come, Free on Amazon

As I’m waiting for The Places They Come to go live on new retailers, I made it free on Amazon for two days. So you if you like that sort of things, it’s there for the taking!

Here’s a snippet in case you’re curious:

True to her word, I didn’t get another text until nearly four in the afternoon. I heard my phone go off, and I pulled it out of my pocket in the middle of my meeting, hoping for some sort of explanation. I stared at the screen for so long my boss had to snap at me, and I was up instantly, apologizing as I made my way back to my office. I mumbled something about a family emergency before I closed the door behind me and collapsed onto my chair.

I looked at my phone again to find a new text that read ‘I’m sorry’. The apology, however, was not for our previous conversation. In fact, as far as I could tell, the apology was for the photo that had popped up moments before, and more specifically for what she was doing right then.

The photo was of my wife’s lips wrapped around an enormous cock. Another photo arrived a few minutes later, this time wide enough that I could see her kneeling on the floor of her office with her hands wrapped around him; her lips were parted by the head of his dick. I stared at it, not knowing what to do. She had told me she’d try to behave, but clearly, she didn’t put much effort into it. Part of me was surprised she had made it that long.

“Do you want to see more? She’s doing a great job,” came the next message. Fuck, this was not right. He had her phone and he was fucking texting me now? I was angry and upset, but still, I couldn’t put down the phone. The picture was insanely hot, and it was like seeing my wife in a movie. There was lust in her eyes, and she looked so happy with his cock in her mouth.

“Yes,” I wrote back, my fingers fumbling on the screen. How far had they gone? I waited for at least a minute, my heart pounding in my chest until the screen flashed and another image arrived. This time Jessica’s skirt was around her waist, and her panties were gone. She was bent over her desk, with her legs spread just enough that I could see her pussy lips.

Another photo followed almost instantly. This time his hard cock was nestled between the lips of her cunt, the head just pushing against her folds. I stared at it as I reached one hand down and grabbed my own cock; I was in shock. He was just about to fuck her, and there was nothing I could do about it. His bare cock was pushing against my wife’s pussy, and she was clearly soaking wet.

“You want me to fuck your wife bareback?” Paul wrote. I didn’t even think…

From Sharing the Wrong Girl: A Road Trip with my Best Friend’s Daughter

Sharing the Wrong Girl

Click on the cover for retail links to Amazon, Google Play, iTunes, and Kobo.

“Do you want to know my kink?” she finally asked.

“Obviously,” I said, stealing another glance of the pink cotton showing beneath her shorts. Her thighs were smooth and inviting, and I pictured a thousand things all at once. If she was going to tease, I was prepared to call her bluff.

“It’s pretty simple,” she said, her hand moving down to her thigh as she tugged on the hem of her shorts. “I just like to feel like a slut. It’s a cross between objectification and submission, I guess. It’s mostly about feeling wanted. Like really truly wanted in filthy ways by all the wrong people.”

“That doesn’t sound simple,” I said, trying to focus on my driving as I inwardly groaned. Of course, she had to get turned on by exactly the things I was trying to avoid.

“Well, it’s not like I’m into piss or knife play. I don’t want to wear a pony mask or get put in a cage with a dog bowl. I just like it when men want to fuck me and are really obvious about it. Like how you got when I told you I let that guy finger me.”

“You are fucking intense, Lisa, do you know that? There is no way in hell I would ever tell Brendan any of this, and please tell me the same is true for you. He’d fucking kill me.”

“We’re just talking,” she said, her hand still fumbling with her tiny shorts.

“That’s true,” I said, knowing how big a lie that really was. “We’re just talking. For now.”

“It’s not like we’re going to do anything, right?”

“Well, it’s good that we have that settled,” I said with a smirk.

“But I guess watching isn’t really a crime, though, is it?” She asked, my eyes following hers as they looked down at her lap. “I mean, what happens in the car isn’t important. And besides, it’s not my fault if you happen to look.”

And then, as I looked at the road with one eye, and the girl with the other, she did just what Molly would have done. Never looking up, she pulled the thin fabric to one side, her legs opening wider until I could see her perfectly smooth cunt just two feet away from me.

“This is where he touched me,” she whispered. “He had his fingers all over and inside me, and I got so wet. Almost as wet as I am now.”

She reached down with her other hand and gently touched the lips of her pussy as I tried not to crash the car. When I finally stole another glance at her, she pushed one finger inside herself before pulling it out–slick with her excitement–and licking it clean.

(This is an excerpt from Sharing the Wrong Girl, a rewrite of Driving Lisa after Amazon banned it. If you purchased Driving Lisa and would like a free copy of the new version, just drop me a note and I’ll send you links to download it.)

New Hotwife and Slutty Best Friend’s Daughter Porn on the way

I have two new* books coming out soon, and they’re both about the wrong girl. Which is obviously a theme of mine. There’s nothing like someone who is off limits to push my buttons, at least when it comes to my writing. Both of these are on the porn end of spectrum, but of course there’s some meat to them as well.

Sharing the Wrong Girl is actually a rewrite of Driving Lisa after Amazon decided they didn’t like the whole stepdad thing going on. But it gave me a chance to really rewrite the book, make it a whole lot dirtier, and change the main character to a friend’s daughter instead. I also made the narrator a bit kinkier and stronger, which I think works well for the new version.

If you bought Driving Lisa, drop me a note and I’ll send you the new one for free.

The second book, with a similar title, is Watching the Wrong Girl about a married guy who fantasizes about his wife fucking other men. His truth is revealed through a young houseguest who not only figures out what he wants but maneuvers both him and his wife into a very sticky and precariously hot situation. I’m still finalizing it, but it should be out in the next few weeks and hopefully you’ll like it too.

Anyway, here are the new covers:

The Summer I Watched, a hotwife erotica novella

The Summer I Watched, a hotwife erotica novella