“Lunch sex?” read the text.
Fuck. Do I have time? Of course, I have time.
“Roof of your building?”
Shit, that’s a fantastic bad idea. The roof is perfect, and there’s even some privacy, but I know everyone in this building by their first name. Don’t think about her sucking my cock on the fire escape, I thought. Don’t remember her lips, or how tight she feels in the afternoon.
“See you in fifteen,” I wrote.
I canceled one meeting, made up an excuse for an errand to run and stood in the hallway waiting. When the elevator opened the first things I saw were her legs. They were long and sexy and they went all the way up to the bluest dress I’ve seen all summer. She smiled and didn’t stop as she walked passed me and opened the door to the roof. She climbed down the fire escape, onto the hot black tar, and didn’t stop until she was against the wall near the back alley. I followed her, looking over my shoulder as I did until we kissed against the warm stone of the building.
For a moment I expected her to kneel and take me into her mouth. It was just what I had imagined all morning and I didn’t realize the new plan until she pushed me to my knees in front of her. The blue cotton beneath her dress was lighter in color but just as easy to move out of the way. She was salty and strong and she grabbed my hair so tightly I nearly moaned. She didn’t let me stay there for long, but it was long enough to drench my chin and fingers, and I knew I’d be smelling her for days.
When I finally fucked her it was actually tender. We kissed slowly and I somewhat awkwardly pulled her leg around me as I thrust into her. We constantly adjusted our angle and balance, but we got it right just enough to cause perfect friction.
“Come in me,” she whispered, as I got close. “I want to feel you for the rest of the day.”
It didn’t take much more encouragement. She kissed me fiercely and pulled me to her. She pressed her hips against me until I was so deep inside her I nearly lost my balance, and she clenched around me until I couldn’t hold back. She held me as I came and somehow we didn’t fall.
She left me on the roof so as not to make it obvious. The elevator was gone by the time I walked back in and all seemed calm in my office.
“What happened to your pants?” Came a voice from the newest designer. I looked down to see two black marks on my knees.
“I have absolutely no idea,” I said with a big smile.
Today I’m thinking about writing and sex along with exhaustion and mindfulness. Sexy right?
One of the things all this writing about sex does (at least on a good day) is to help me get more comfortable with my vulnerable places. It helps me find my wounded and hurt places alongside the ones that are filled with more comfortable emotions like love. But all of those emotions live in my body in one place or another, and digging them out, writing about them, and sharing them can lead to all sorts of physical sensations as well as internal ones.
Most teachings on mindfulness or meditation remind us that challenges, difficulties, loss, and suffering are often our greatest teachers and I believe that to be true. But learning is a tiring endeavor and there are days when I’d prefer to learn through joy and ease instead.
But it can help to look at that exhaustion as something positive. It means change and growth and it means I’m probably writing the correct things. Or at least trying to. It means I’ve done hard work and it means I’m still doing it.
I like to think that sex lives in its own box. That it exists alongside the rest of my life instead of wrapped up in it. But of course, it doesn’t work that way. When I think back to that glorious afternoon in the hammock with my hand inside Jessica’s jeans, I also remember the house I grew up in and my father sitting in the window. When I think back to my first attempts at polyamory and open relationships I remember my ex-wife, my cats, and my first real apartment. And even when I think back to meeting Piper (as I’m doing now) I remember moving in by myself, struggling with grief and depression, and coping with severe physical pain for weeks on end.
And that’s what makes it worthwhile. Sex with her is a reminder of every string and connective tissue that made up my life in that moment. Sex with him leads me to another place, other smells, and sense experiences, and those heart deep feelings of wonder, curiosity, and fear. Even if I isolate it, the rest is still there lurking outside the bedroom window or hiding in the kitchen. Even if all I remember are my hands around Tanisha’s throat and her lips pressed against my shoulder as if in a still photograph, my body remembers the rest.
There are other lenses of course. There are other ways to look back, to remember the smell of autumn or the excitement of reconnecting after months apart, but sex is the one that works best for me. Maybe it’s the sense memory or maybe it’s the reality that every intimate experience requires more of me than I often like to admit.
But in that exhausting vulnerability, that beautiful memory of taste and touch, and even the painful sorrow or regret, everything is there all at once.
And on a good day, and maybe today as well, I can let that exhaustion comfort me.
“You know that was just a fantasy the other night, right?” she said as we climbed into bed.
“Which do you mean?” I asked, trying to pretend I hadn’t thought about it all week.
“You know. The whole watching me thing, it was just a fantasy. But I guess I kinda liked it. I mean, I know we got in a fight after, but it was hot.”
She looked nervous as she blurted it out, and for a moment I didn’t recognize her. Kelly was composed and direct. She knew what she wanted, and she was never once ashamed at asking for it. Hell, she wasn’t even worried about demanding it. This was unlike her.
“Are you saying you want to try it again?” I asked, pulling her closer to me.
“Do you want to?” she asked, her newfound shyness as enticing as it was confusing.
“Only if it turns you on,” I said. I kissed her again and pulled her on top of me. “I’ll do anything that turns you on.”
“I know,” she said, sitting up on all fours. She looked down at me before reaching over to the bedside table and handing me a condom. I grinned as I took it, and I could already feel myself getting hard. “It does turn me on. I’ve been thinking about it a little, but this time I want us to be ready. No interruptions, okay?”
“Anything you want,” I said.
“So, let’s just pretend someone is behind me,” she whispered. “He’s sliding my panties off and rubbing his hard cock against my pussy. Does that excite you? Pretend it’s someone you’ve never met. Someone younger and stronger. Someone bigger.”
“Yes,” I moaned, watching her take off the little she was wearing. I slid my own pajamas off as well and tore the condom opened as she talked.
“I can feel him touching me, his rough hands on my skin and his dick pressed between the cheeks of my ass. He’s not being gentle with me, but I don’t care. He’s not my boyfriend or husband, he’s just some asshole I picked up in a bar. But he’s so strong and big, and best of all, he’s not wearing one of these,” she said, her hand now covering my latex clad cock.
“Oh fuck,” I moaned, embarrassed at how turned on I was.
“You like that, don’t you? Thinking of his big bare cock pressing against my pretty little cunt,” she moaned. “I want to feel it so badly. I want to feel him slide into me, his fat cock stretching me open as he fucks me. I want you to look at me and reach down between my legs to feel it too. I want you to know he’s inside me.”
I pulled her down around me, my cock sliding inside her instantly. She was so wet I almost couldn’t feel her, but it didn’t matter. Her words in my ear were driving me crazy as I pulled her down. I tried to kiss her mouth, but she held me back, looking into my eyes as she kept going.
“He’s fucking me so hard,” she moaned thrusting her hips. “He’s going to come. He’s going to come inside me, I can feel it.”
Seconds later her arms were around me and she was shaking. Her body trembled and clenched, her cunt tightening around me as she started to come louder than she had in ages. I kissed her mouth over and over, thrusting up into her as I felt myself about to come as well. She pulled my hair and kissed me back just as I exploded into the condom, both our bodies slick with sweat. When we finally came down, she rolled over next to me and buried her face into my shoulder, her breath slowly returning to normal.
“Fuck that’s good.”
Clara and I looked up to see the bartender from the Tiki Bar, the one person she had been flirting with all day, settling into the hot steamy waters just across from us. He smiled as he slid into the tub and closed his eyes as he stretched his strong arms out on either side.
“What a coincidence,” I said quietly shaking my head.
“What does that mean?”
“I told him to find us. Don’t be mad.”
“Clara!” I said almost too loudly. He looked over at us, but if he was bothered by my outburst he didn’t say so. Instead, he leaned his muscled arms against the edge of the hot tub as his head fell back.
“Are you sure you don’t want to watch me do something?”
“You wouldn’t,” I said, not answering her question. After her day of teasing me about it, touching me as she whispered her little fantasies into my ear, and getting me so close to coming that I might fall in love with a breeze if it came too close, I was in a rare state. On one hand, I didn’t believe her. And on the other, the thought of her following through was both terrifying and exciting. I had spent the afternoon thinking about her college friends, along with every other man she teased me about, and it nearly felt normal.
“So, it’s up to me,” she said. It took me a few moments to realize that was not a question.
“Clara, please. Maybe we should go inside.”
“But look at him. He’s handsome and young and he has been looking at me all day. We’re on vacation, Chris. Don’t be so uptight.”
“Clara, I don’t think asking you not to make out with a stranger makes me uptight.”
“Just no fun.”
It was getting ridiculous, and I found myself growing angry along with everything else. The more I thought about it the more absurd it all became until I said the words that would change everything.
“Fine. Do whatever you want.”
“I love you,” she said, kissing me on the cheek. I tried to turn away, but she held me in her hand and then kissed my lips. “I mean it. I love you more than anything in the whole wide world.”
“I love you too,” I confessed.
“Good,” she said as she stood up and moved across the tub to the far side. I stared at her in awe, still not believing she had the nerve to talk to the man let alone anything else. But she sat down next to him and then turned to him with a smile I knew too well. He looked back with a goofy grin, and I wondered if they had some way of communicating that I didn’t understand.
“I’m Clara,” I heard her say quietly. “In case you wanted to know.”
“John,” he said, awkwardly shaking her hand. “That’s your husband.”
Again, there was no question, and yet it was the biggest question of all.
“Yeah,” she said, nodding her head and not looking away. “He’s the best.”
“You guys look cute, although I seriously thought you were one of the teenagers. Not to be creepy.”
“I don’t mind a little creepy,” she said, sliding closer to him on the bench.
All of my choices felt horrible at the same time. My wife was flirting with a handsome young man right in front of me, and she had already at least implied that I didn’t mind. In fact, when he looked up at me all I could think to do was smile and wave, and it felt stupid and ridiculous and my god, why was I hard again?
Maybe it was her hand on his shoulder, or maybe it was the way he stared at her without an ounce of shame. Maybe it was the fact that I had let her go, and maybe it was her constant teasing that put me in such a state of arousal, but I could no more tell them to stop than I could look away.
“Can I tell you a secret?” she asked, leaning in closer to him. She turned and gave me one last look before leaning in and pressing her lips to his ear. The moment lasted forever and I could hardly believe I was seeing it. The small act felt more intimate than anything, and I could see his expression change at her words. He looked up at me once more and blushed, before nodding his head slowly. Clara stood up and walked to me through the thick steam.
“You are the best husband in the world,” she said, planting a kiss on my lips.
“I don’t understand,” I mumbled.
“Come closer,” she said, taking my hand and moving me to the other side of the young man. He looked back and forth between us before pulling himself up to sit on the edge. She kissed me again, before moving between his legs up and looking up at his face.
“Are you sure?” he asked, and I couldn’t tell if it was addressed to me or her.
“What do you think?” she asked, reaching behind her and untying the straps to her top. It fell lifelessly into the water, and suddenly my beautiful wife was standing topless in front of a stranger.
“Clara,” I gasped, wondering how she could be so perfect. The steam rose around her as she knelt on the bench, moving even closer to the bartender.
“You are so fucking hot,” he said, reaching down and touching her chin. When she opened her mouth and took his thumb between her lips, I realized that I had stopped breathing. I still didn’t believe she would go further, and yet I struggled not to instantly pull myself from my suit and fuck her right there in the hot tub.
“Show it to me,” she whispered, and I inched closer to them without thinking. It was impossible and yet it was true all the same. I watched, mesmerized as he looked about once more before unzipping his shorts and reaching one hand inside them. Clara had a hand on each of his knees and she leaned in closer even as he reached out with his other hand to touch her breasts. My mouth was open as I watched him feel her up, but it was a moment instantly eclipsed by another.
“Oh god,” she said, licking her lips as he pulled his semi-hard cock out into the night air. He wrapped his hand around it, sliding up and down it a few times, before releasing it.
“Do you like it?” he asked, nearly shy in his questioning. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t think, and I couldn’t cry out as she nodded her head as one hand moved as if someone else was controlling it. Clara reached out so slowly I nearly lost my mind, and then wrapped her fingers around him, encircling his cock with a gentle squeeze.
And the moment I’ll never forget, the thing that is burned into my memory and won’t let me go, lasted only a second. My wife, my love, and my dearest girl looked at me with such perfect combination of want, love, and lust that I found myself nodding as she leaned forward. She looked up at him next, but that brief frozen moment of time would return again and again. Because no matter what else I had done, I had just said yes….
“I adore this book, it was a super fun read and it was undoubtedly one of the best erotic novels I’ve ever read. I read it in the span of a couple days, and it honestly was very worth the purchase. I highly recommend it!”
“Close the door,” she said, as she stood looking at me with her glass of wine in one hand and the other on her hip. I shut it behind me and walked in quickly, stepping up in front of her so I could take her all in at once.
“You look incredible,” I said, kissing her gently. “If I had known you were wearing that under your dress, I would have suggested we come upstairs sooner.”
“I thought I should be prepared,” she said, leaning her head down against my own. She kissed me lightly on the lips before pulling back. “You know, in case anything happened.”
“It looked like something was happening in the kitchen,” I whispered, hoping I wouldn’t ruin the moment. I had no illusions that we could return to the night before, and half of me expected her to never mention it again. I suppose it just shows you how crappy a psychologist I must be.
“It wasn’t much of anything, but that boy is incorrigible.”
“What did he say?” I asked, putting my wine glass down on the table before returning to wrap my arms around my wife.
“It’s not what he said,” she whispered, her face blushing the lightest shade of red. “Well, not just that.”
“What did he do?”
“He stood behind me and told me I looked lovely.”
“That doesn’t sound too forward,” I said, trying not to sound disappointed.
“At first,” she said, looking up into my eyes. “But then he stepped closer to me, and I could feel him against my ass. I don’t know what he was doing in the bathroom, but he was hard as a rock.”
“Are you serious?” I asked. I had seen him adjust himself, and he had been standing close enough to Maria to touch her, but I hadn’t believed Fiona’s claim that he was genuinely interested.
“He was so hard,” she sighed, kissing me again before lying back on the bed with her legs barely open. “Come onto the bed, and I’ll tell you the rest.”
She opened her legs wider as she said it, and I didn’t have to be asked twice. I lay down on my stomach and kissed her right leg from the calf all the way up to her thigh before moving to the left one. She sighed as she adjusted herself, but she was otherwise silent as I moved back up. I kissed her gently through the black satin, and she arched her back and moaned before I pulled it to the side and opened my mouth on her wet skin.
“That’s it,” she said, reaching down and grabbing me by the hair. “Just like that.”
“Tell me more,” I said pausing just long enough to look up at her beautiful face.
“He grabbed my hips at first,” she moaned, pushing me back down. “And he pushed against me, letting me feel his big cock against my ass as he whispered in my ear.”
I slid two fingers inside her, turning them up so I could rub her g-spot, and she sighed even louder as she spread her legs wide. My mouth was on her clit as I pictured him holding her, and she was wetter than I had seen her in months. I licked her up and down, teasing her lips and thighs before opening and fucking her faster with my fingers.
“I could barely hear what he was saying, but my god could I feel it. And just when I thought he would leave, he reached one hand around me and slipped it into the front of my dress.”
“Are you serious?” I asked, pausing just long enough to ask the question.
“He slid it under my bra and cupped one breast in his hand before pinching my nipple for just a second. He was still hard against me, but I couldn’t say a thing. I couldn’t believe he was so forward and for a moment I thought you might be upset.”
“Never,” I moaned into her pussy, my tongue nearly frantic as I felt her clench around my fingers and lift her ass off the bed. She was close to coming, and I didn’t stop as she held me where she wanted me most.
“It was only for a second, but it was enough. His hard cock was against my ass, his hand was inside my dress, and when he said the words, I practically came right there. That insanely hot young man told me…”
“What?” I said, practically begging her to continue. I kept going, my cock close to bursting at the thought of his audacity and her clear response to it. I was rubbing against the bed as I ate her and fingered her, and I could picture everything that I had only glimpsed from the couch.
“He told me he wanted to fuck me. Just like that. It was only a whisper in my ear, but it was so clear that I’ll never forget. I want to fuck you, Maria, he moaned, and then he was gone, and I was left shaking in front of the sink with a soaking wet cunt and…”
“Is she prettier than I am?” she asked, her lip trembling at the question.
This was a new game for us, but I knew the answer the second she asked it. I had asked her the same thing, albeit with different words, for a long time. I knew how she felt asking, and I could feel that perfect combination of fear and excitement about to explode.
“Of course she is,” I whispered, my fingers between her legs and my mouth against her cheek. “But it’s not just that. She’s pretty of course, but she’s also so much sweeter than you. She’s tender and kind, and she doesn’t fuck anyone who asks. Unlike some filthy girls I know.”
“I’m sorry,” she moaned, clenching around my fingers before letting me roll her to her stomach. “Do you like fucking her more than me?”
That last question slipped out through gritted teeth as if she could prepare for the answer. Even as I pressed against her, teasing her with the possibility that I might refrain, I knew she was bracing for my words as much as anything else.
“She’s so much tighter,” I said, pushing inside her in an instant. “She feels amazing when I fuck her, not like this filthy cunt. She cries and kisses me, but it doesn’t matter. I know that she belongs all to me, not like you. I know that she’s my good girl until the slut I’m fucking now.”
“Please,” was all she could say, her sobs real as I pushed deeper inside her until she cried out. I wrapped one arm around her throat as I fucked her harder, and for a moment there were no more words left. She clenched around me even as her tears flowed, and I didn’t stop. I squeezed tighter, I thrust harder, and then I said the words that would end it all.
“She’s prettier and she’s tighter, but there’s more,” I said, feeling her push closer to the edge with each moment.
“What else,” she begged, her fingers between her legs as well, rubbing her clit with a ferocity I hadn’t seen in days. “Please tell me. Please say it.”
“It’s not just that she’s prettier and more innocent. It’s not just that she’s all mine and I love fucking her more than any girl I’ve ever met. It’s not just that she’s sweeter than you.”
“Please,” she cried once more as I found myself also on the edge. There was no point in holding back anything at all.
“I also love her so much more,” I said, and we were done. I came quickly and fiercely as her fingers worked harder and faster, her own orgasm tearing through her body in wave after wave of relief. I pressed down against her, the weight of my body pinning her to the bed even as I released my grip around her neck. She shook and cried as we came, and I wrapped my arms around her without hardly moving at all.
And then I was kissing her hair and holding her with all the affection in the world. She turned and kissed me too, whispering words of thank you as I stopped myself from apologizing. I held her as I choked on the words that I was tempted to say, forcing myself to remember it was just a game.
“I love you more than I can ever say. You know that, right?” I kissed her nose and then held her to my chest. She was warm and still trembling, but she didn’t move for a long time.
“I know,” she said when she finally looked up. “After that, how could I not believe you?”
“The Pill X series of books are all ridiculous fun. This third installment is in particular especially crazy hot. I liked that all the characters are friendly, relatable people (who do some dirty, dirty things).”
I’ve been wanting to make some small books for a while now, but I just never got around to it. Until last week! I finally made a 4×6 template and then designed five tiny print books of my shorter erotic stories: Camping with the Guys, The Day the Lights Went Out, All the Groom’s Men, Caught in the Act, and Private Tours: NYC.
They’re cute and they don’t look dirty, which means you can carry them around in your back pocket and only you will know that you have a dirty book with you.
Of course, you can also collect all five if you like and if they go over well I’ll make more. It would be fun to all have of my shorter books available in print.
“I thought Times Square was supposed to be gross or something,” she said, as she bummed a cigarette. We were standing on 8th Ave looking down 42nd St at the bright lights, the honking traffic, and the giant billboard advertising Jay-Z’s new album. I shrugged my shoulders and held out a match for her.
“Where are you from?” I asked, trying not to stare. She wasn’t wearing much, but what she did have on yelled tourist from about twelve blocks away.
“Ohio,” she told me. “But this is depressing. I mean, there’s only one sex show, hardly any pimps, and I can see the fucking Shake Shack from here. I’m going to have shit stories to tell when I get home.”
“Were you looking to get into trouble?” I asked, stepping closer.
“Obviously,” she said, smoking vigorously. “At least I was hoping for something I can’t get at home.”
“Well, let’s go find something,” I said, reaching out a hand. She paused for a moment before dropping her cigarette, crushing it out with a heel, and then stepping up beside me as I turned the corner and headed around the block.
Four shots of Jameson at Blue Ruin got us feeling okay, but the DVD’s at Vihan’s were less exciting than her “Tumblr dashboard at two in the morning.” When I suggested we pick up a pint of Jack and drink it in the basement of Port Authority she was on board, and by the time we stumbled back to the street for another smoke we were both drunk and dirty.
“What’s down there?” she asked, pointing under the old bus station and down 41st St.
“Not much anymore. Used to be a good dive, but it just closed in July.”
The neon sign for Tobacco Road was still lit, but the bar was shuttered for good and there was nothing but old trash bins and the fumes from the Greyhounds across the street.
“Let’s go,” she said, traipsing off down the darkened block. I followed along, trying not to get too distracted by the serious amount of undercarriage she was sporting with her barely existent jean shorts.
“It’s all fucking gone,” I said, stepping up beside her. “Sorry I couldn’t take you back in time, but look, it was shitty back then too. Maybe this is better.”
“And maybe you kiss me, so at least I can say that,” she said, stopping outside the shuttered bar. I didn’t need any more encouragement, and I’d be lying if I said that kiss wasn’t fucking fantastic. Her lips were soft and her tongue quick; my hands found her ass almost as quickly as her’s found my cock.
“This is better,” she said, unzipping my jeans as I looked over my shoulder for signs of onlookers. “It’s late, we’re drunk, and I don’t remember your name. It’s perfect.”
“Shit,” was all I said as she spit on her hand and started stroking me slowly. When I got my hand inside her shorts she was soft and wet and she bit my neck so hard I screamed. I could still hear sirens and cars honking, but somehow on that quiet block, it felt like another time and another world.
As we kissed and groped, the light changed and the noise of the city turned to a chatter I only half remembered. Out of the corner of my eye, the buildings grew lower, the buses smokier, and the sounds of a boombox busted through the night air. I heard someone scream about a shoe shine, and by the time her shorts were around her knees, I swore I saw a Cadillac drive by with horns on the hood and soft velvet seats inside.
“This is more like it,” she said, reaching between her legs as I rolled a condom down over my cock. She leaned forward and helped guide me inside her as all around us Times Square burst to life in vivid colors. And as we fucked there on 41st St, drunk and alive, someone clapped and someone else screamed. I kissed her neck as I pulled on her hips and she kept moaning a name that did not belong to me.
Five minutes later as we lay leaning back against the metal gate closing off the bar, she bummed another cigarette and looked up at the sky. I followed her gaze, and we stared up in awe as the world returned to itself, one skyscraper at a time. Hudson Yards appeared again, the scaffolding and cranes tall and new, and the neon lights faded around us until all that was left was the blinking sign hanging above us reading Tobacco Road.
“That’s what I was looking for,” she said, taking a long drag.
“Thanks for the reminder,” I said, looking down at my boots. She leaned in and kissed my cheek before turning towards 9th Avenue. I couldn’t look away as I watched her go, but not once did she look back. Smiling at her almost shorts, I took one last drag before turning left and heading to the subway.
“Fucking Times Square,” I muttered with a stupid smile. “Fucking Times Square.”