My latest release from @Excessica is out! Embrace Every Offer is a story of a young girl discovering her sexuality. Buy it now on Amazon. Here’s a snippet:

Embrace Cover SmallWhen she got to the front row on the left side of the house, someone caught her eye.

She had dark hair and mocha-colored skin. Maddie thought she looked like Rihanna in one of her short-haired phases. She was wearing jeans and a light-colored sleeveless top.

What kind of underwear would she wear? Those frilly Victoria’s Secret things? Maddie hated those. No. She wouldn’t like them either. She’d want them to be plain. And cotton. Maybe white to stand out against her caramel skin. They would be bikini-style. Maybe a little see-through, with hints of dark pubic hair showing through at the bottom.

Maddie shook her head to clear it. Why was she thinking this way? There was just something about this girl. Maddie couldn’t keep her eyes off her.

My latest release from @Excessica is out! Lesbian prison romance Time Flies. Buy it now on Amazon. Here’s a snippet:

Time Flies Cover

“Who said anything about being gay? I’m just your cellmate showing you some stuff.” Lu continued to stroke Kacie soothingly with both hands, one on the insides of her thighs and the other on her outer lips, getting near her clit, but not quite touching it. Kacie closed her eyes and focused on how her body was feeling, and her body felt good. She started to wriggle a little bit.
“See? It feels good when someone else does it, right? Now bend your knees so I can really get in there.” Kacie complied without thinking, and felt Lu’s fingers enter her soaking wet twat. She opened her eyes and saw that Lu’s middle two fingers were fully inside her. Lu turned her hand so her palm was facing up.
“I bet you’ve never felt anything like this before.” Kacie felt Lu’s fingers stroke the top wall of her vag, back and forth, back and forth. Feelings of intense pleasure started washing over her.
“Oh my God. What…what the fuck are you even doing?”

My latest story now available through @Excessica Here’s a snippet:

Stranded Cover

“Why don’t you come lie with us on our blanket? We’ll show you some other stuff about swingers.” Barbie scooched over on her blanket to make room.

She was a little hesitant. What was going to happen? She hadn’t planned on talking to anyone here. Plus she didn’t know them at all.

“I…I don’t know. I can just sit here on my own blanket.”

“True, but you seem so lonesome sitting there all by yourself, and we’d like to get to know you better.”

Barbie was right. She was sick of being alone. And they were so nice and everything. They made her feel comfortable.

“I guess I could. Just give me a minute to put my bikini back on. I feel a little silly lying here naked with other people and all.”

“Don’t feel silly. That’s what this beach is all about. Everyone is naked. You don’t have to feel ashamed. Look at us—we’re both naked.” She was still trying not to look at Ken.

“You can look at us, Eliza. We don’t mind. We’re looking at you. Barbie already told you that we find you very attractive.”

She blushed at hearing such a direct compliment from a man. She wasn’t used to them. She felt her nipples start to get hard again in spite of herself.

He’s right. What do I have to be ashamed of? Everyone is naked here.

But what does he mean that they find me attractive? What’s going to happen if I go over there?

Don’t be ridiculous, Eliza. They’re just being nice.

She got up, went over to their blanket, and sat down between them. Barbie put her arm around her.

“Do you mind if I touch you?”

“No…no…it’s okay…I guess.”

Barbie kissed her softly on the lips.

Why would Barbie kiss me? What does it mean?

“That’s good, because I like touching you. But any time you want me to stop, you just tell me and I will.” Barbie was caressing her entire body now, paying special attention to her tummy, hips and butt. It felt good. She liked to be touched gently like this. Dave never took the time when they were together. She started to relax. And she started to feel wet.

“Is it okay if Ken touches you too?”

There has been a raging debate this week on the Writers list of the Erotic Readers and Writers Association about condoms and whether they belong in erotic writing. This debate mirrors the one going on in LA, which has mandated that porn actors use condoms during filming. The law has created a great hue and cry from porn producers, directors, and even performers, who claim that condom usage is not sexy and will detract from the enjoyment of their viewers.

There isn’t anything at stake for the writers, though. No one is suggesting condom requirements for dirty stories. Nonetheless, the arguments have gotten quite heated, and even a little personal, so I’ve been trying to figure out what the big deal is. After all, this is a group of erotica writers who come together for mutual support and exchange of ideas and information. They would never argue about a writer’s personal style or preferred genre. Yet the condom issue stirs hot debate. Why?

Condom sex is still sexy!

I think the answer lies in two different conceptions of what erotica is all about. On one hand, it is fantasy. It is about all the kinky things a human being can possibly come up with in his/her dirty little mind. Hell, it doesn’t even have to involve humans. Monsters and paranormal beings regularly invade erotica. Since it is all at the level of fantasy, why ruin it by bringing such mundane topics as pregnancy and STI’s?

On the other hand, erotica is literature. Like it or hate it, the producers of erotica are writers, and many of us try to create realistic scenarios that are consistent with our own experience. Since condoms are an essential part of non-monogamous sex in the modern world, why wouldn’t we depict them in our work, which, let’s face it, is mostly about non-monogamous sex?

As you may be able to tell, I’m solidly in the second camp. My characters will generally use condoms when they’re with a new partner, particularly if they are in a swinging context. However, I don’t make a big deal out of it. I just mention it and move on. I do not think it detracts from the erotic quality of the work, and if a reader is turned off by the mention of safer sex, my stuff will obviously not be her cup of tea. I would advise readers (and writers) to keep an open mind, though. As Cooper Beckett has suggested over and over on Life on the Swingset, full protection takes the worry out of play & allows you to fully enjoy yourself. Erica Moen goes one step further and points out that condoms can be very visually stimulating. This is consistent with Rachel Kramer Bussel’s basic tenet for writing erotica – anything can be erotic in the right hands.

Does that mean I disagree with writers who prefer to stay in the realm of fantasy? Not at all. More power to you & I hope you find your audience. When it comes down to it, the whole debate is kind of silly. Writers can write whatever they want, and readers can read whatever they want. It’s all a matter of personal preference. Unlike the real world, where it’s a matter of life and death.

Another outline of a scene that I wrote to give myself ideas for a new novel I’m writing.

“You WILL submit to me!”

Man, this pissed him off. He knew she was a master Dominatrix. And She had helped him and his wife transform their vanilla marriage into a really hot D/s relationship. He appreciated it. He really did. She was sexy too. It wasn’t like they didn’t fuck. She wasn’t a “professional” with them, that’s for sure. No money changed hands. Their training had been a natural outgrowth of their relationship with Her.

He had learned a lot, and he thought he was pretty damn good at topping. Now She was telling him he wasn’t. Not as good as his wife was at bottoming anyway. She said he needed to switch roles. To learn to submit.

He didn’t want to, but She insisted, and She always got her way. Now he was naked, blindfolded, and kneeling with his face toward the bed, his wrists shackled to the posts. He felt the rough tip of the rattan cane tracing a pattern on his back.

“Say you will submit.”

“I will submit.” Jesus Christ, what a waste of time.

crack. Man, that hurt. It felt like a bee sting, if the bee was the size of a fucking crow.

Who will you submit to?” crack. crack.

“To you, Mistress. I will submit to you.”

“That’s better.”Mistress

As the punishment continued, a change came over him. He realized that he had absolutely no control over the situation, and that realization relaxed him. He stopped resisting and shifted into some kind of zone. He wasn’t feeling the pain the same way. It just became intense sensation, and the sensation became erotic. He felt himself growing hard. She noticed it too.

“Oho. It seems there is a little of the masochist in you after all. Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

He heard her tall stiletto heels clicking languidly across the floor. When She returned, She reached around him and grabbed his dick roughly, pulling it upward. She put something metal around him, under his balls, and slid a metal cage over his cock. He heard the click of a lock. The cage was only a few inches long.

She began to tease him, stroking his caged cock, kissing it, licking it, even sucking it. His dick was trapped. It couldn’t get hard unless she freed him. She laughed wickedly.

“You see? You are completely under my control. I will do with you as I please. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Would you like your cock to be released?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“And then I suppose it would get hard?”

“Yes, Mistress. Very hard.”

“And what would you do with your hard cock, should I choose to free it?”

“Whatever you ask, Mistress.” Thinking about the possibilities made his dick strain at the cage again.

“Anything?” she asked teasingly.

“Yes, anything, Mistress.” She wanted to fuck now. He was sure of it. And he could hardly wait.

“We shall see. I am going to release your shackles. When I do, I want you to grovel, beg me for what you want.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

He felt his wrists come free, first one, then the other. He turned toward her and located one of her spike-heeled boots. He pushed his face onto the laces.

“Please Mistress, free my cock. I will do whatever you ask me to do with it.” He smiled to himself, thinking eagerly of the pleasure that awaited him after his pain.

“Very well. I will do as you ask. It may be that I have plans for your member.” In the back of his mind, it suddenly dawned on him that her plans might differ from his.

He heard the heels slowing clicking away again, and he waited nervously. Presently, she returned. She reached around him again, and he heard the lock click open and felt the ring and cage slide off of his cock.

“You may remove your blindfold. Turn and face me on your knees, please.”

“Yes, Mistress.” He did as she asked. When he turned, he saw that she had removed her skirt, and was wearing just her black leather bustier and high-heeled boots. In place of the skirt, she wore a harness with a dildo attached. He saw now that he would not be the one doing the fucking. This was not something he had considered, and he was momentarily taken aback.

“Suck it.”

“Mistress, I…I…” She slapped him hard across the face.

“I said suck it. I want to watch you suck my big cock.”

He reached out, took Her cock in his hand, and guided it to his mouth.

“Good, good. Keep sucking just like that.” She had grabbed his hair roughly with both hands and thrust her cock into his mouth until he choked on it. Finally, she had had enough.

“Get on the bed on all fours, and put your face in the pillow.” He complied immediately. He felt the lubricated tip of Her cock against his opening. She pushed, and it entered him. It hurt, but did not feel exactly as he was expecting.

“I want you to take it all. Are you ready?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

She resumed pushing. He felt it enter far further than he thought possible. As She thrust in and out, She reached around and stroked his cock until it was rock hard.

She continued to thrust and stroke at the same time. He knew he was going to come, and that scared him. He would never allow his wife to orgasm until he said so.

“Mistress, with your permission, I am going to come now.”

“That’s fine. You have not yet developed the same control as you wife, but you will.”

With a final thrust, he erupted. His come spilled out of him, soaking the sheet.

“Are we finished, Mistress?”

“We are finished for now.”

Oddly, he found himself eagerly anticipating their next time together.

This short vignette is a sketch of a character I’m developing for a novel I’m beginning to think about. 

He kissed her clumsily, his hands pawing at her. She liked it, though. He was sweet. And handsome too. She could feel his hard muscles underneath his thin T-shirt. But it was more than his lack of experience or good looks that charmed her. He really liked her, treated her like a lady. Not like the other ones. She frowned to herself, momentarily distracted. How many had there been?

More than there should have been in her eighteen years, that’s for sure. And none of them her choice. As far as she was concerned, technically she was still a virgin. She wasn’t counting her asshole stepdad. That started when she was just 13. She tried to tell her Mom, but she wouldn’t believe her. Typical. Then her brother and his friends too. She’d had to grow up pretty quick in that house. Either be strong, or let it bury you. Well, she could be plenty strong! She had focused on her studies, graduated with honors, and now she had a full scholarship to the state university. The one three hours away from her hometown.

She smiled to herself. “Yup. I’m getting the hell out of here all right. And I’m NOT coming back.”

But first, she was going to fuck this guy. Not because she was being forced. Because SHE decided. That’s the way it was going to be from now on. If there was one thing that her shitty prior life had taught her, it was that women could use their looks and bodies to control men, and that’s just what she planned to do.

She felt him squeezing her boobs, first softly, then urgently. She pulled back from his embrace, tugged her tight T-shirt over her head, and unhooked her bra. Her large natural tits tumbled free. He grabbed them and sucked on them voraciously.

She reached over and stroked the front of his jeans, feeling the outline of the hard cock underneath, straining on the zipper. She unbuckled his belt and freed it. She wanted to stroke it, but she didn’t want him to come just yet.

His hands went down to her shorts, and he fumbled with them, desperate to get at what awaited within. She sighed to herself, laid back on the bed, and slipped them off. She left her panties on. Unless he had a condom, this was as far as he was gonna get.

He yanked his jeans and T-shirt off and positioned himself between her knees.

“Honey…did you bring anything…like, for protection?” He thought for a minute, grunted, reached into his wallet and took out a trusty Trojan. As he ripped the package open and busied himself trying to figure out how to get it on, she slipped her panties off, waiting patiently.

He eased his cock in, like he wasn’t sure what it would feel like, what would happen. Once fully inside her, he got the idea. They always did. He began thrusting in and out as he held himself over her like he was doing pushups or something. The pace increased rapidly, and within a minute she felt him come inside her.

She smiled up at him. “That was awesome, honey. You were great,” she whispered.

Relieved of her virginity at last, the vaguely wondered how it would be at college when she could finally meet some real men.

Here is a full story I wrote several years ago. I saw this ad in a magazine and started picturing some guy jerking off to it. I sent it to an anthology, but they rejected it – the editor said I was “fetishizing” the female characters. Since I was writing about a guy fantasizing about a girl in a magazine ad, fetishizing was pretty much the point. I guess I picked the wrong anthology! Anyway, enjoy…

The trigger was her leg. At least you thought so at first. With these sorts of things, it’s hard to say what actually sets you off. Regardless, her leg is very central to the image. Highlighted by the photographer, it extends straight up with pointed toe as her dance partner exuberantly dips her, ending in a thick white sock and black, sensible oxford shoe. It is a very nice leg. Naturally, she is pretty. But this isn’t the leg of a model. It’s muscular. Thick even, with a shapely curve to both the thigh and the calf. It’s a hell of a leg. Back in the day, that might have been enough. A Victoria’s Secret catalogue, a department store newspaper insert, anything like that. Usually you need more these days, though – much more.
Or perhaps it was her smile. She’s having such a great time dancing with her boyfriend. Oblivious to the fact that she’s causing a scene. You could almost call her innocent, girlish. But not really. She just oozes sexuality. She knows what she’s doing, how men look at her. And she likes it. She likes being the center of attention. She’s showing off, flaunting her body at the squares all around her. Her boyfriend put her into this position, but she’s not doing anything to change it. She’s just enjoying the moment. That combination of innocence and knowingness is always sexy in a young woman.

Is she wearing panties? You can’t tell for sure, but the picture seems to indicate that she isn’t. Her skirt is hiked up all the way to her waist. It is a side view, but if there were panties you’d expect to see some evidence of them. There could be a thong, though. It’s hard to say. It almost doesn’t matter, since either way she’s exposing her crotch for the entire world to see, and several other dancing couples are looking right at it.

Come to think of it, maybe that was the trigger – a voyeuristic thrill for both her and the other couples around her. She can pretend that she didn’t mean to flash her crotch at them. She is just dancing, lost in the music and following her partner. And the other couples can pretend they aren’t looking. But they are. That much is obvious. How many times has that happened to you? Not every day, of course. But it does happen, and it can be memorable, even for a lifetime. A well-timed gust of wind. A subway entering a station. A slip on a wet sidewalk. A wardrobe malfunction. All of a sudden, completely out of the blue, you’re seeing something private. Something you weren’t meant to see. Or were you?
Whatever the trigger is, it leads to that very familiar feeling. Subtle. Almost like an itch. An urge. Not at all like you see in movies, where a teenage boy sees a girl’s tits and runs frantically into the bathroom, hormones blazing. That’s a joke, a cliché. Tired by the time Phillip Roth wrote a novel about it before you were even born. For one thing, there wasn’t an erection. Not yet anyway. Just a pleasant thickening, a fullness, as blood started to seep into your member. There was no urgency. No hurry. You could have waited until later if you wanted. Waited until you had more time.

You could also have held off until you were in bed with your wife later that night. Sex is better with a partner, right? Not always. Maybe you didn’t want to wait. Maybe you didn’t feel like going through the process of seduction that night. Maybe she would be tired, not in the mood. Maybe you just wanted to be alone with your thoughts and fantasies this time. In any case, it didn’t have to be one or the other. You could still fuck your wife later if you felt like it.

Not that you actually went through all of these calculations in your mind. None of it was really planned like that. But the image did stir something. You find that you are touching yourself, first just through your pants. Stroking, feeling, sensing the growing erection. At some point, your cock wants to come out. It is tired of being restrained by your pants. It wants to spring forth, erect and proud. And you want to feel its thickness in your hand.

Of course you will need a fantasy, and it’s not going to be about fucking the model. It never is for you. Maybe for some guys. How the hell would you know? But for you, it would be weird to picture yourself having sex with models and starlets just because you think they’re hot. Why would they be interested in you? You probably overthink it, but that’s the way you are. When you see Scarlett Johansson’s teenaged ass encased in sheer panties, you think of teenage ass encased in sheer panties, not Scarlett Johansson.

There doesn’t have to be a fantasy. Your cock will respond perfectly well to pure physical manipulation. That’s the thing about being a guy. You could just stare at it with a blank mind as you stroke it and it would produce an orgasm. But it wouldn’t be as good. Not nearly as good. So what will it be? It could be a lot of things. Something you’ve done in your life. Something you’ve seen or read about. A fantasy you’ve had before. Something you make up entirely. Things start floating through your mind as you touch yourself. Not organized at first, but it will have to get there. Everything will have to resolve itself.

It seems as though panties are emerging as a central theme. You started off imagining what the model was showing to the other couples. Then Scarlett Johansson flashed through your mind. Panties are strange things when you think about it. Good ones look so perfect on a woman. Better than seeing her naked, really. But you still can’t wait to yank them off to see what’s underneath. Bikinis are the same way. What are they except slightly more substantial bras and panties? Now you are thinking about chicks in bikinis you’ve seen. And your wife in hers.

You think about that one time years ago when you saw a girl changing out of her bikini in the back of a car. It was very fast as you walked by, but she was pulling down her bottoms, just exposing the crack of her ass. Obviously you had to keep walking. You couldn’t stand there ogling her. But the image remains. Stuck in your mind forever. It will probably get even better over time.

Now you’re on the right track. Your cock is fully hard, and you are stroking it with authority. You don’t want to speed up too much, though. You could blow your load fast if you want to. But it’s much, much better if you slow things down a bit.

Flashing panties start to fill your thoughts. That little V that appears between a woman’s legs as her skirt rises. It’s so…how do you say it? Enjoyable. It’s just really, really pleasant to see. But why? It’s a mystery. Your mind inevitably drifts to the first time you can remember seeing it, in 2nd or 3rd grade. That’s gross – why the hell are you thinking about that? But you can’t help it – it’s a key association in your mind.
Now the fantasy has resolved itself. Maybe parts are true. Maybe not. But it goes like this. You are at a party with a date. Is she your wife? An old girlfriend? It doesn’t matter. You are at a party at a friend’s house. Your date has dressed up for the occasion in high heels and a skirt that’s just a little shorter than she’s used to wearing. Throughout the night, she keeps unintentionally exposing herself – when she bends over, when she sits down, when she crosses her legs. It’s subtle. She’s not causing a scene or anything, although of course people besides you could see if they’re looking right at her. But people are coming and going, mingling, not paying attention. You’re with her all night, so you see it all. And it’s driving you crazy.

Is it the panties themselves? You’ve seen them before, of course, and you like them a lot. They are pale blue. Delicate. Tiny. But there is something about seeing these little glimpses, these little teases. And that other people could see them too. She’s being a little naughty, a little slutty. You like that.

All this time you are drinking, chatting, flirting – doing the things you would normally do at a party. As the night wears on, you pull her aside, a little roughly, so she can feel your need. You tell her that her panties are driving you crazy. She is surprised. She hadn’t realized. At least she acts as though she hadn’t.

You order her to go into the bathroom, take them off, and give them to you. Right now. She demurs. It sounds a little crazy, a little uncomfortable. Plus, someone might see her pussy. But you persist. You are not going to be denied this time. She senses your urgency, and finally acquiesces to your demands. She disappears into the bathroom. You wait for her impatiently.

After a few minutes, she emerges. What took her so long? All she had to do was pull her panties off. You resist the urge to say something sharp, unpleasant. She looks up at you, a little in awe of your aggressive mood. But she likes it too. Likes that you want her. Slowly, she holds out her hand. You take her crumpled panties from her.

You look around. It is too public. Someone could come down the hall at any time. You give her a sideways glance and go into the bathroom yourself. You lock the door and look at what she’s given you. They are so small, so pretty. The sides are just string, the rear translucent. The front consists of little lace scallops. At the waist, there is a tiny little bow. You raise them to your nose and inhale her scent. That is even more arousing. You feel yourself begin to get hard. You take out your cock and slowly rub her panties up and down the partially tumescent shaft.

When you come out of the bathroom, she is gone. You look around for her and see her across the room chatting with other people. This goes on for a while. She sees you, but she doesn’t come over to you. Is she avoiding you? Teasing you? Maybe she’s mad at you, thinks you’re being too forceful, too unlike your usual self.

On the other hand, the two of you share a secret. Only you two know that her panties are in your pocket, and that she is naked underneath her miniskirt. The thought of it excites you, and as you watch her, you can see that it excites her as well. She keeps looking over at you, feeling your gaze. She blushes. Looks away. That excites you even more.

Finally, you’ve had enough. You want her. Now. You approach her as she mingles. Taking her by the elbow, you make some excuse. You need to borrow her for a minute. Whatever. You crack some kind of joke. You pull her into a spare bedroom. There are coats and purses piled up on the bed. You lock the door behind you and lead her over to the bed firmly, but not too rough. You’re not trying to bully her. You just want her to understand that you are in control right now, and that you need something from her. Mutely, she does your bidding. You push her head down onto the bed, her face buried in jackets, supported by her elbows. This makes her skirt ride up her hips, exposing the ass you’ve been thinking so much about. You stroke it, squeeze it. She responds, pushing it out a little to give you better access.

At first you stroke gently, but soon you can’t help yourself. You’re squeezing her ass cheeks, separating them with your hands to see what’s within. You see her tiny, puckered asshole and pussy, both open and inviting to you. Your need rises. You give her a swift smack on the ass. She moans a little and moves her legs apart expectantly.
Your fingers find her pussy and trace around the outside of the parted lips, feeling her swollen clit. Slowly, you insert a finger inside her. She is wet now, very wet. She is ready for you. You can hear her breathing quicken. You unzip your jeans and pull them down to your knees, along with your underwear. You don’t have the patience to take them any further. Your cock is fully hard now, throbbing. You don’t need any foreplay, no other stimulation. You want to fuck her. Now. You grasp her hips with both hands and move to enter her. Her hand reaches back to guide you to the right spot.

You enter slowly, not wanting to hurt her. Your cock feels big now, straining at its skin. She might not be ready for the whole thing. But she is. You can feel it right away. She is wet, receptive, even insistent. She wants it all, and she wants it hard. You pull back on her hips until your entire length is inside her. She gasps a little, afraid to make any noise in such a public place. You start thrusting, slowly at first, then faster, harder. She feels perfect, her pussy gently hugging every inch of your dick. This isn’t going to take long. You don’t want it to. You just want to take her, as hard as possible. She wants it that way too. Within a few minutes, you blast your load inside her. It is big, and takes a few thrusts to get it all the way out. You pull her closely to you, keeping your cock inside her for a few more seconds.

While this scenario is playing through your mind, your hand is stroking your cock along to the rhythm of your fantasy. When you erupt in your mind, your body erupts as well, with that familiar slow buildup and then violent release. It is good. It is very, very good. You’re glad you took the time to make it special.
Later, it occurred to you that you didn’t even know what the picture that started all this was for. You were curious, so you returned to the magazine, flipping through until you found it. It was an ad for sunglasses. The tagline was “Never Hide.” That struck you as funny, because men usually do hide their personal fantasies. You would be ashamed to admit to your closest friends what really turns you on, let alone write about it.

Here’s a short character sketch I wrote a while back based on something I read in a very old Savage Love column. It might be a good candidate to flesh out into a full story for a bi collection. Enjoy!

“Is that for me?”

He came out of his reverie with a start. He had been daydreaming in the shower at his gym, and he realized that his fantasy about his ex-wife had given him a partial erection. He thought he was alone, but now he was embarrassed to see that the young man had entered the shower room as well.

He had seen him while he was working out, of course. They were the only ones there. He was usually alone when he worked out this late at night. But the young man didn’t bother him, and after a while he forgot that he was there.

Until now. Now the young man was staring at his hard cock with a little smile on his face. He had to admit the kid was good looking. He was very lean and muscular. His biceps and pecs were bulging, flushed with blood from his workout. His ass was rock hard. He even had 6-pack abs. And yes – his cock looked nice too. Large and full. Cut. Hairless like the rest of his body.

“What? No. I mean…I was just daydreaming a little bit.”

“It’s OK. It happens to me all of the time. I was just wondering if we could help each other out.” The young man walked over to him and touched the tip of his dick. Just gave it a little tug. To his chagrin, it got even harder.

He was horrified. He wasn’t gay! He was straight as could be, wasn’t he? Why would this guy think he was a homo? He even started to get a little angry.Gym

But the boy continued to stroke his soapy cock, and he had to admit it felt good. Did that mean he WAS gay? Who really cared anyway? Nobody except him had touched his dick since his wife left. Why look a gift horse in the mouth? He looked down and saw that the boy’s cock was getting hard as well. Without thinking about it, he reached down and started stroking it. The boy leaned in to kiss him. That seemed really weird. But when their lips met, it felt natural. Good even. The kiss lingered, their tongues probing each other.

What did another man feel like? Especially one as buff as this. His other hand started rubbing the boy’s shoulders, then strayed down his chest and back until it got to his butt. He kneaded the boys butt cheeks, which were firm, yet pliant. He reached in between his legs and cupped the boy’s balls. They felt good too. Warm and inviting. The boy threw his head back and moaned a little.

He realized he had a choice to make. If they stopped now, or even just jerked each other off, he could write it off as a fluke, just one of those things. But what if they continued? What if they did more? What did that make him? He was curious now, as well as horny.

He got down on his knees and guided the boy’s cock toward his mouth.

She stared at the phone dubiously. Would he like it? Would he think it was stupid? But he would be away for so long. She wanted to give him something to remind him of her, and this was the only thing she could think of. Methodically, she propped the phone on the dresser and checked the viewfinder. Then she took off all of her clothes, pressed the Play button, and lay down on the bed with her head on the pillow. She bent her knees and spread her legs, giving the camera a bird’s eye view of her pussy. She reached down with one hand and touched herself. Slowly at first, just running her fingers through her dark pubic hair, then pressing a bit on her mons. That always felt good. Her legs spread a little wider, and she began stroking her innSquirter thighs with one hand while the other found her left nipple and squeezed it. She felt a little foolish. Was she doing it right? Well, this was how she always did it, ever since she was a girl. Her right hand inexorably found her pussy and began to trace the outer lips. It felt good, but she was distracted. It was hard for her to concentrate, and if she couldn’t concentrate, she usually couldn’t reach her peak.

“Focus,” she commanded herself firmly. “This is for him.”

She began to probe inside herself. First one finger. Then two. Her other hand strayed from her breast and found her clit. She was into it, but it was still taking longer than usual. She turned over and propped herself on her knees, ass in the air. She liked to touch herself from this position, liked how open she felt. Liked to imagine him entering her from behind. The finger on her clit increased its pace. She felt herself building, slowly but steadily.

After a while, she rolled over and reached in her drawer. She pulled out her favorite vibrator. It was small, a little bigger than a lipstick case. She liked the size. It was cute. Sort of pinkish purple. She turned it on and slid it inside of her. Normally, she would use lube, but she was very wet now. Wetter than usual. Probably because it was taking longer. She felt the powerful vibrations. The build was quickening. She slid the vibrator in and out with one hand, while the other made little circles around her clit. Finally, she was getting close.

She exploded with a loud cry. She was startled. After starting so slow, it had happened so suddenly. And it was so intense. Something felt different. She looked down at her fingers. They were completely soaked. She sat up and saw that the sheets were soaked as well. She had squirted for the very first time. She leaned back and started giggling uncontrollably. She hadn’t even thought she could do that. She bet he would be surprised. And excited too.

Something for him to think about while he was away.