Flashback

As we push through the crowd, you start to grumble. Disneyfied, you gripe. Sanitized. You miss the pre-Giuliani peep shows, you claim, although I know you never indulged. You were still an innocent then, another wholesome midwestern boy newly arrived. But you like to reminisce.

I grab you, ford the stream of passers-by. "Peep shows, huh?" I murmur, stealthily unbuttoning underneath my coat. You catch on fast, lean in, shielding me from view so you can get your eyeful. I really only mean to flash you my bra, but you slip your hands inside and undo the front clasp, cupping my tits. You kiss my neck, push me against the wall. I realize too late that you've pinned me there at the elbows, nudging my coat open to expose me.

"No," I whisper, but I can't free myself. My nipples throb and ache in the cool air and my cheeks burn. A lanky hipster type stops to look. "Hold her," you say, and the guy grips me hard enough to bruise. Kneeling, you grin up at me, neon reflecting in your eyes. "Crossroads of the world," you muse, lifting my skirt. "A juncture. Everything converges here." You pull my panties aside and dive in, burying two fingers in my cunt. My captor sucks on one nipple, bites down on the other as I groan and start to come, oblivious now to bystanders.

-- Yeah, I didn't know about that webcam either. Broadway and 46th Street. Um, oops.

I ❤ NY.

[written for Alison Tyler's ❤ contest]

The Hardest Part

"I've wanted to fuck you since the first moment I saw you." He says it matter-of-factly. Conversationally. The bastard.

I pause for a long moment, struggling to keep my face impassive. I can't decide whether to jump him or punch him. Finally I snap, "What the hell took you so long?"

He shrugs, grinning now, challenge in his eyes. "I try to wait until I can't stand it anymore," he says. "I like the anticipation."

And then he's on me--biting my neck, pawing at my tits, pinning me against the wall. He pulls my shirt up, finds my nipple and sucks. I swoon, delirious. He doesn't kiss me. This isn't about romance. This is about heat, about desire, about him getting inside me as soon as humanly possible.

He hikes up my skirt, gropes me through my panties, then pushes them aside. Without warning he shoves a finger into my cunt, and then another. I open to him readily, gratefully, panting and groaning with pleasure, and then his hand is over my mouth. "Shut up," he murmurs, and whirls me around. I barely have time to brace myself against the wall before he slides inside and begins to fuck me, grabbing my hips, pounding into me relentlessly. I come so hard I see stars. I feel his cock twitch and pulse a second later.

Breathless, we slump against each other.

"So," he says, "was it worth the wait?"

I kneel, take him into my mouth. I'm not waiting anymore.

[written for Alison Tyler's "seven dirty words" contest]

Ring Bell for Service

"Dammit, I wanted to fuck you in that tent," you complain, grabbing me with one hand while the other rings the bell. You're dripping rainwater all over me, but it doesn't matter. We're both drenched.

"Well, now you get to fuck me in a sleazy motel," I say. You grope my ass through my pajamas, soaked from our dash from the campsite to the car, then shove me toward the check-in counter, pinning me against it. Your hands continue their assault. You know that being manhandled like this makes me hot.

"Quit it!" I hiss, anticipating company, but you keep going. You kick at my foot, knocking me off balance, and I widen my stance to compensate. You take the opportunity to slip a hand between my legs and I stifle a gasp. You twist one nipple through wet fabric until I groan, "Stop."

But my back's arching and you know I'm close. You spin me around and wrap your lips around the other nipple, then push pajamas aside and slide a finger into me, my moans suddenly loud in the empty room as I start to come. You thrust again, again, propelling me higher - another finger, deeper, faster - until my cries turn into a wail. You urge me on, making me come harder...

Then there's a movement in my peripheral vision and I realize the room wasn't empty at all. I look and there's the clerk, watching, rapt. And that makes me come the hardest of all.

[written for Alison Tyler's "motel sex" contest]