Guy New York: Erotica Author and General Debaucher

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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 on the right-hand column as well as over at Pronoun with links to individual online retailers.

Cheating Wives, Husbands, and Girlfriends (also boyfriends)

I have a new book out call Everybody Cheats. It’s a collection of sixteen stories from Quickies in New York about, well, cheating. Some of it is sort of hotwife cuck stuff, but mostly it’s people just getting some on the side whether it’s allowed or not.

Here’s the cover, and you can find all the retailer links over on Pronoun.

everyone-cheats

Brooke Shields’ Desk

Dorothy Darker at School

Photo © The Dirty Gentleman

“Brooke Shields used to sit at that desk.”

I turned to look at the girl next to me and shrugged like I didn’t care.

It looked like all the others, but in an instant, I knew it wasn’t. It was special, it was possibly sacred, and why the hell did she have to say that just as class was starting? I closed my eyes and pictured her ass under a short plaid private school skirt rubbing against the cold hard plastic, and I was in heaven. Sure, I never met her, but my mom taught her and so did J’s Dad and that was close enough. All the stories got passed down year to year, and even ten years after she graduated, she was a presence that stimulated both pride and anxiety. But right then, in the middle of English class, all I cared about was the thought that my ass was touching the same damn seat that Brooke’s ass once touched.

“Tom, do you want to come up to the board and punctuate this sentence?”

The teacher’s voice brought me back to the horrible present, but all I could do was nod and try to figure out what I was supposed to do. Grammar wasn’t my strong suit, and standing in front of the class with a hard-on was enough to make me permanently decide that Mrs. Lindon was the devil. I muddled through it, got corrected and sent back to my seat, and as much as I tried to pay attention after that, it was no use. There are times when living in a fantasy world is preferred to the real one and don’t ever feel guilty for it. Sometimes running away is the best option. Especially if your run ends with Brooke’s teenage ass.

“Dude, that was pathetic,” Mark said as we climbed down the back stairs and outside the building. It was a horrible piece of ‘70s architecture and it lacked the typical luxury of a private school, but for some reason our senior year English class got sent up there anyway. I’m fine with old and I’m fine with modern, but this twenty-year-old buillshit was horrible. We crossed the driveway and then headed across the parking lot to the library like we always did.

“It was Jean’s fault,” I mumbled.

“What did she do, show you her tits or something? You looked like you had a banana in your pocket.”

“Fuck you, Mark. But no. She went and told me that Brooke used to sit at my desk.”

“What the hell is wrong with you? She’s like eight years older than you and hasn’t gone here in a decade. What do you care?”

“She’s hot,” I said with a shrug. It was the truth, although to be fair, she was my only celebrity crush, and that was just because it was personal. I didn’t like her because of her movies, I liked her because of her yearbook photos and the arguments the teachers had about how pretty she was and how smart she was. I liked her because she was close to home, and that was enough for me. I liked Brooke Shields because she made me feel like I could touch something bigger and better than myself and I was desperate for importance.

We found our seats in the back of the library and spent the next hour and a half bullshitting with whoever stopped by before the late bus. People came and went, and by four-thirty, most of the building was empty except for me and Tara Williams. We rode the same bus and everyone called her a slut. Which only meant that I liked her instantly. She was quiet, but she smiled at me, and on occasion, she even sat with me on the bus ride and we talked in the back row. I had some strange suspicion that she didn’t have many friends, especially guys since all they talked about was how badly they wanted to get into her pants.

We moved out into the hallway to wait for the bus, and I sat behind her gently rubbing her shoulders as we talked about class. We were in Spanish together and had just gotten into reading Neruda. Or at least attempting to. She thought it was hot and I thought it was romantic, and I mumbled the few lines I had forced myself to remember for just this occasion. Quiero hacer contigo lo que la primavera hace con los cerezos.

Tara leaned back as I whispered the words in her ear, and my hands slipped over her shoulders without another word from either of us. I could see right down her shirt to her bare breasts, and somehow I managed not to hyperventilate. As I moved my hands lower, she nestled in against my legs like everything I was doing was fine. I finally reached down the front of her shirt and began to massage her tits as she touched my arm gently and sighed quietly. I was gentle and careful, practically holding my breath for the moment she would tell me to stop.

A few minutes later the bus showed up outside, and I pulled my hands out of her shirt and we grabbed our bags. We were silent as we climbed on board, and Al, the bus driver, just nodded at us and then shook his head. What a crazy old man, I thought to myself, remembering how he ran us off the side of the road in a snowstorm one time. I liked him, but that didn’t mean much.

Tara sat down and I sat across from her. She pulled out her Spanish book and started reading through the last chapter, so I pretended to do something else. I was surprised that I hadn’t grown hard feeling her up, and I wondered if there was something wrong with me. Just the thought of Brooke’s ass had done it, but this was real and it was here and she was prettier and smarter than Brooke anyway. At least to me she was.

“Hey Tom,” Tara said, touching me on the shoulder a half hour later when we got to her stop. I looked at her big warm smile and my heart melted a little bit. She was more than pretty and I was an idiot who didn’t know how to say anything.

“That’s for the massage. It was nice.”

And then I watched her ass as she wobbled up to the front and climbed down the steps onto the sidewalk in front of her house. I pictured her going up to her room and undressing, and I got angry at myself for being so crass. She was a nice girl no matter what anybody else said. Why else would she have let me feel her up? Maybe there was something wrong with her too.

It got dark before I got home, and I was grateful for the cover of night. I climbed the steps to my house, my backpack heavy on one shoulder, and I stood in front of the door for a while trying to get the nerve to go inside. Maybe school wasn’t great, but it was full of pretty girls and good memories. It was full of old buildings, favorite teachers, and of course Tara Williams the slutty girl that was a saint as far as I was concerned. I took a deep breath and tried to forget about the desk and the imagined plaid skirt. I held my hands up to my face and remembered that just an hour before they had touched the best tits in school.

My key didn’t make a sound as I turned the lock and opened the door. It was quiet in the house, but I could smell dinner cooking. Macaroni and cheese most likely.

“Hey, mom,” I said to nobody in particular. “I’m home.”

The Kink Fandom

A slightly bruised bottom. Photo © Guy New York

A slightly bruised bottom. Photo © Guy New York

Sometimes I think that the kink fandom is pretty much like every other. Some people like to dress up and go to cons. They want to be a part of everything, do everything, and they love the social aspect of getting together with other fans to play games in public.

And some people want to enjoy it in the privacy of their home with a few friends, or maybe do some LARPING in the woods near their house. Or the basement as the case may be. They have a few friends they talk about it with, and it’s a fun weekend hobby where they get to nerd out without thinking about the outside world.

And some folks just like to think about it, read about it, watch it, and find their own pleasure in their simple enjoyment of the thing. Maybe it’s a guilty pleasure, or maybe it’s just something they come back to on occasion like an old friend they adore, but don’t get to see all that often.

And, of course, some folks want to argue about it, fight about it, and tell you that you’re not a true fan and you have it all wrong.

Don’t listen to those people.

“There are a hundred ways to kneel and kiss the ground…”

A Messy Cheating Threesome

A threesome with two men and one woman: mmf

It was too late to be awake, but when I walked into the room they were still fucking. Hell, maybe they had just started, I wasn’t sure, but they were at it all the same, and suddenly I was less sleepy than a minute before. It was a familiar sight, at least partially, but none of that mattered. Her legs were spread around him as they moved slowly, and it was so sweet it nearly made me sick.

“Hey, we missed you,” she said, reaching a hand up to me. I sat down next to her on the bed and pulled my shirt off. He looked up and smiled and I could see his latex clad cock slowly moving within her. I instantly had a horrible idea. Fuck, I shouldn’t have had that last drink, and I definitely shouldn’t have done the other thing.

“I was having my own fun,” I said, standing up once more to get rid of the rest of my clothes.

“Let me suck your cock,” she whispered, reaching up to grab me. I almost said no, but the longer I watched the more my mind fucked with me. Her lips were warm and soft, but she was clearly distracted. I reached down and rubbed her wet cunt as he slid in between my fingers, and between her mouth on me and the booze, I couldn’t resist. Anything to ease the guilt.

“Why don’t just fucking take that off,” I said, trying not to slur my words. It was a dumb suggestion, but maybe it would help. Besides, they had probably wanted it for longer than I cared to imagine.

“Are you serious?” she asked, looking up at me. He stopped moving completely, and I realized they were both asking me the same thing.

“Come on,” I said. “It’s been a year and who cares anymore? Just take the fucking thing off and fuck her again. You know you want to.”

“Dude, I don’t know,” he said. But for all his hesitation, he pulled out of her and reached down to stroke his dick. She didn’t close her legs, in fact, she opened them wider, and nobody said a word.

“Do you want it?” I finally asked her, my hand reaching down to her neck. I was angry, but also so fucking turned on I didn’t care. But I still wanted to hear her say it. If she made the choice, then I could pretend I had nothing to do with it.

“Of course,” she said, taking me in one hand as she reached the other between her legs. “You know I do.”

He looked at me, and then back at her, and then with a small grin he pulled the latex off his dick and tossed it onto the floor. I pulled her mouth back to me and watched anxiously. When he leaned forward, I held my breath even as I pushed deeper into her throat. Her eyes closed as she gagged on me, and I took a perverse pleasure in not letting her watch. I spread her open with my fingers as he moved in closer and rubbed his bare cock against the wet folds of her cunt.

“You sure?” he asked one last time.

“Just fuck her,” I growled, more impatient than I should have been.

He didn’t ask again before thrusting inside her, and she moaned around me. I didn’t know if she actually felt the difference or had heard him take the thing off, but it didn’t matter. I watched him push into her, fucking her deeply with each stroke, and it was so fucking hot nothing else mattered. I was still angry, still guilty, and so close to coming I had to pull out of her mouth and just watch.

“Fuck that feels good,” she sighed, looking back and forth between us.

“Is this really your first time?” I asked. “You two haven’t been doing this all along?”

“I swear, we never have,” she said, pushing down onto him as he closed his eyes and bit his lip.

“I’m not even supposed to,” he said, and I realized I had completely forgotten about his girlfriend. But she wasn’t there, and it wasn’t my problem. This was about her and me, and so what if I was using his dick? So what if I didn’t care about anything anymore, and so what if he was breaking a million rules? What right did he have to better than me?

“You love it,” I mumbled, reaching down and rubbing her clit as I spoke to him. “Don’t fucking lie to me. You know you wanted this. And you know just where you want to come.”

“Fuck, I can’t,” he said, leaning up and pushing into her faster and harder. “Fuck I want to.”

“And how about you?” I asked, grabbing her cheek with one hand. “Where do you want it?”

Just before she could answer, he started to moan and scream, and right when I thought he would do it, no matter what his agreements were, he pulled out and finished himself with his hand. He didn’t move far though, and no matter what he was supposed to do, he came all over her cunt and her thighs. She held her legs open as he did, spreading her pussy wide; he coated her lips before collapsing next to her.

“My turn,” I said, instantly moving between her legs. Her cunt was soaking, and his come was everywhere, but none of that mattered. They had fucked up and I had asked for it, and I was going to fuck her used cunt if it killed me. Maybe that would make it all okay.

“Oh fuck,” I moaned pushing inside her. I hadn’t realized quite how messy it was until I felt his come coat my cock as I fucked her. So much for pulling out.

“Holy shit,” she kept saying as I fucked her harder with each thrust.

“Do you like that? Do you like his come inside you? Do you like me fucking you with his come?”

“Oh god yes,” she moaned, biting her arm as he watched from the sidelines, his hand still on his dick. “Don’t stop. Fuck, it feels good.”

“Did you like his bare cock in you?” I asked, slapping her face just hard enough.

“Yes,” she cried. “It felt so much better. And you fucking loved it too. Don’t pretend it was about me.”

“Fuck you,” I cried, slapping her again as I felt my balls tighten. I slammed into her as deeply as I could, and there was nothing left to do. I kissed her wet mouth, pulled her bottom lip between my teeth, and finally let go, coming inside her without any shame at all. She was a filthy mess, my cock was covered in another man’s come, and he lay watching us, out of breath and still in awe at what happened.

“Holy shit, I love you,” she sighed when I let my body fall against hers. “That was so fucking hot. I can’t believe we did that.”

“You’re filthy,” I said, kissing her cheek.

“You’re filthy,” she said, kissing me right back.

“Fuck, I was so close,” he said, rolling to his back. “So fucking close.”

“Don’t worry, Buddy,” I said, slapping his thigh. “I did it for you. Besides, next time you can do whatever the hell you want.”

They both watched me get up and get dressed, but they didn’t ask questions. I could see the confusion in her eyes, but I was in no mood for understanding. When I pulled my coat on, he was already hard once more, and her hand slid up and down him gently. She held my gaze as he moved down between her legs, opening his mouth on her bruised cunt. I stood in the doorway and closed my eyes for a moment as I listened to her soft moans and the wet sounds of his tongue against her skin. They’d do it this time, and that was all that mattered. After all of that, they wouldn’t be able to resist.

Which meant only one thing to me.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said, turning and walking out the door. I pulled out my phone and sent a quick text message as I walked quickly towards the stairs.

“I’m coming back. I want you again. And this time we’ll finish it.”

Serving the Guests

Photo © by The Dirty Gentleman for Quickies in New York

Photo © by The Dirty Gentleman for Quickies in New York

I like to meet her at the door when she gets home from work. Especially when there are guests over she doesn’t know about, and especially when she drops to her knees the second she walks under the transom. It’s a silly little game, making her beg for my cock with six pairs of listening ears a few feet away, but it’s the small things in life that make it all worthwhile.

The other night she didn’t hesitate for a moment, and her words were loud and clear enough for all to hear. Halfway through, I pulled her up, still in the foyer, and had her take her dress off. I like to think she forgot about work instantly, although in truth it might have taken the applause to really bring her to the present. She turned the corner as I moved to the kitchen, and my guests smiled and clapped as she blushed the nicest shade of red.

The rest of the evening was inevitable from that point on, and we slipped into a lazy ease that felt so very much like summer. After passing out drinks, she moved the coffee table out of the way and knelt on the floor as the rest of us talked about our days and our weekends to come. As we sipped our cocktails, I waved her to an old friend with a flick of my fingers, and we all leaned back to watch her lift a dress and open her mouth against wet sin. The talking continued, but of course we let the pauses grow longer to make room for the lovely sighs of joy coming from the girl on the couch.

After one orgams, she moved back to the center of the room, and the mild conversation continued until I asked her to take the man next to me into her mouth. He toasted me with real affection as she pulled him hard and straining from his pants and took him all the way into her throat with one big breath. The breeze through the window did little to cool us down, but in truth there was no reason to be bothered by the heat. What use is summer if you can’t let go?

An hour later one of the newer couples in the room made use of both her ends as we slipped drunkenly into the couch pillows and watched. He fucked her slowly from behind as she pulled an open mouth between her thighs along with curious fingers and a languid tongue. Their drinks rested neatly on her back eliciting laughs with each small spill.

Later in the evening she knelt next to me, her own drink finally making its way to her lips as I pet her hair and whispered kind words into her ear. My guests let their hands slid under slips and inside undone pants without much effort at all, and the evening passed like all evenings should: with a glorious slowing of sweaty limbs and unbroken hearts. The music danced, the gin drifted, and the lips and faces of friends grew content with simple pleasures.

When we finally found ourselves alone it was to a big soft bed and linen sheets that did little to stifle the heat. We kissed and we whispered words of praise and delight. We touched faces and shoulders in the growing darkness, and when the bells chimed four they found us drifting in and out of sleep as we floated gently in a daze of sweetened dreams.

Morals Far and Few

Her bikini was so small that it took me five minutes to realize I knew her. But when she turned around, smiled at me, and took the empty chair next to me by the pool, it all came rushing back in an instant.

“I haven’t seen you since high school,” she said, pulling her sunglasses down.

“Who let you up here?” I asked. She had always been a difficult student, and I teased her to no end about it. Old habits die hard.

“Me? I’m more surprised they let lecherous old men like you up here with all these pretty young things. Don’t they have a bouncer anymore?”

The rooftop deck was less exclusive than it was hard to find, but that didn’t mean she was wrong. She fit in far better than I did, although I suppose I was part of the charm. What’s the point of discovering a swimming pool on the roof if you can’t bump into writers and artists with morals few and far between?

“I seem to recall you had a fondness for lecherous old men like me,” I said, wondering how much had changed. Eight years is a long time, especially for a girl like her.

“And I seem to recall you didn’t mind a short skirt and knee high socks. Although I suppose this bathing suit doesn’t leave much to the imagination.”

I looked her up and down without hiding a thing because the game came back without any effort at all. We had a boundary we both pushed against, and while it grew blurrier the closer we got to graduation, there was still a line I hadn’t crossed. It wasn’t much of one, but it was a line all the same.

“I wonder if I would have done it,” she said, closing her eyes. “I mean, if you had actually followed through with my blatant offers, I wonder how I would have reacted. It’s so easy now to picture myself doing it all, but at the time I think I was still content with the fantasy.”

“I’m glad you never asked me outright,” I said, and it was the truth. Hints were one thing, but if she had undressed or told me to take her, I’m not sure what I would have done.

“I can’t remember how many times I came thinking about you.”

“I stopped counting a long time ago,” I said, turning to face her. She sat up and leaned closer to me so our heads were practically touching.

“It’s not as hot now, is it?” She asked, one hand on my cheek. “I mean, the thought of you fucking me right now. The image of you pulling me into the bathroom, sliding this bikini to one side, and just fucking me until the guilt goes away just isn’t as hot as it was when I was your student.”

“I wouldn’t say it’s completely without appeal,” I whispered, sliding one hand down her shoulder as I toyed with the thin blue strap. “In fact, I can think of five reasons we shouldn’t fuck right now, and none of them have to do with my tenure.”

“One of us has a ring on,” she whispered.

“And one of us has a date waiting at the bar,” I said, my hand slipping down to her hip.

“Neither of us has a condom,” she said, her lips against my ear.

“Both of us fall in love too quickly.”

“On the other hand, there’s a lock on the bathroom door and eight years is a long time to wait.”

“You make a good point,” I said, standing up and pulling her with me. “It’s a very long time to wait.”

“You know what will be longer?” She asked, looking up at me with a grin I remembered far too clearly.

“What’s that?”

“The two minutes you have to wait before following me.”

And she was not wrong.

Read the First Chapter of Susanna: an erotic account of one woman’s indiscretions

From the Description:

Susanna and Nicholas have a delightfully open marriage in which they promise to keep no secrets. But after a brief tryst on the train back to New York, Susanna finds herself longing for someone she barely knows. While she confesses part of her affair, she leaves out the details that she quickly obsesses over. Back in the city, she and her husband return to their hedonistic lifestyle full of champagne, new lovers, and games of one-upmanship, but Susanna can’t get the man from the train out of her mind…

You can preview the first couple chapters below:

 

A Creepy Birthday Blowjob

I told her that in high school a good friend once asked to suck my cock so she could practice before trying it on her boyfriend later that night. It was a drunk story I told her late one night, and I had almost forgotten I shared it until she climbed into bed with that look on her face that I love so well.

“You remember that thing about a practice blowjob?” she asked, kneeling over me and licking her lips.

“Of course I do. It was a fucking fantastic afternoon, and after the party, my friend kissed me on the lips telling me her boyfriend had loved how good she was.”

“Yeah, that one,” she sighed, reaching one hand down to my jeans. “Can we maybe try it out? But with other things?”

We played a few different games, but I was fairly certain I knew which one she meant. I rolled her to one side and pushed her hair behind an ear gently. I slide the strap of her shirt and bra down as she looked into my eyes with a question. I whispered that it was okay. I assured her everything would be alright as long as we were quiet and didn’t tell.

“But we shouldn’t,” she sighed.

“I just want to help,” I told her, taking her hand and placing it on my growing cock. “It doesn’t matter that you’re my sister, it only matters that I’m here, and you need to practice. You want to make him happy, don’t you?”

“But what if someone finds out?” she asked, not taking her hand away as I gently kissed her neck and chin.

“You’re not going to tell anyone, are you?” I asked. She shook her head as I unzipped my jeans, and by then I was so hard it didn’t matter. We were already so deep in the game there was no going back.

“Good, so be a good girl and suck your big brother’s cock. I already told you, your boyfriend will thank me for it. You have to get better at it sometime.”

She didn’t need more convincing before leaning over and tentatively taking me between her lips. Her hand was gentle as she slid it up and down my cock, but the game blurred with reality because I knew the truth, and I needed it as much as the fantasy. Maybe it could work if I said the right words.

“You know, he’s not as nice as me,” I said. “In fact, I think he’ll be a bit more aggressive than this.”

And before she could come up for air, I shoved her down around my cock until I was buried in her throat. She gagged for not even a second before coming up and smiling at me like she had just won a blue ribbon. I pushed her back down and began moving faster and faster as I fucked her, the fantasy full in my mind even as I used her the way she really was.

“Sit up and show me your pussy,” I told her, grabbing her by the hair as she gasped for air. She blushed but lifted her dress, and I stared at her like it was the first time.

“My god, you are so hot, sis. And that little pussy is going to be mine on these days too, you know that right? You know I’m going to fuck you soon?”

Before she could do anything but nod and whimper, I pulled her back down to my cock, rolling us both over until we were on our side.

“But now I’m going to fuck your slutty little mouth until I come.”

“Oh god,” she gasped, letting me fuck her harder and harder.

Blowjobs do not usually make me come. Nothing sweet ever does. But as I shoved her onto her back, my hand on her breasts as I fucked her mouth and throat harder and faster, I knew that I was close. She took all of me, her hands on my ass as she let me use her, and just a few minutes later I growled her name and thrust into her before coming down her throat as she swallowed every drop.

As soon as I was done, I pulled her up for a kiss as he little fingers moved between her legs. I held her by the throat as she brought herself closer and closer.

“You’re going to come for your big brother, and when you boyfriend is fucking your mouth later, you’re going to pretend that it’s me. Isn’t that right, Sis?”

She was coming before I got the sentence out, and I held her closely as she screamed and bit her lip, trembling around her fingers as she called out to the divine.

A few moments later I held her limp body in my arms and kissed her hair.

“Fuck, that was amazing,” she said, kissing me between giggles.

“You are amazing,”  I said, holding her tightly as both of us slowly began to return to ourselves.

“How the fuck do you know my head so well?”

“Maybe we just share a brain,” I replied.

She lay there against me for a long time, my shirt untucked, my pants around my knees, and my cock still hard against my stomach. Her dress was askew and one breast was still bared to the world. I pushed my fingers through her hair and kissed her forehead as I whispered thank you over and over again.

Finally, she looked up and kissed my nose.

“Happy birthday, now let’s go eat oysters and get drunk.”

And that’s just what we did.

Writing With the Dog

Last week we brought home this little rescue dog from the shelter, and it’s been a pretty big life change! I normally am home alone during the day, getting in my writing, publishing, and other work related tasks (watching porn, napping, and dishes), but now I have some company along with someone who needs to go out every three or four hours to take a leak.

I’ve tasked him with some editing and some research. You can see him below going over one of my books, and then checking out some photos by Ellen von Unwerth. He’s not especially picky, but he definitely has some opinions!

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