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I play without a wheel
I gently tap the analog stick, trying desperately to correct the steering in Gran Turismo Five Prologue. The Horror, the horror as another Ford GT swiftly darts around my Amuse Honda S2000. "That driver must be using a wheel!" I think out loud, more hate than jealousy in my heart. No love for the controller, we are a dying breed. I will no longer restrain my guilt when it flies against the wall, yet again. My hands shake as I settle for a fourth place podium finish one last time.
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Sneaking Off
We sat up on the fire escape and talked for a long time, then kissed for a while. I was surprised when she unzipped my jeans. Walking down the stairs she said "Don't tell Tom."
Missing missed planes
You missed your plane. I came home from work early to pick you up. On the bed, on the couch, in the kitchen, in the shower. One glass of wine and I was drifting off to sleep, realizing that this was more than a fling. We had four good years - so good that I would still have moved to Manhattan all over again, knowing what I know now.
Close enough
I saw her and my heart dropped. I have never seen a more perfect girl. I knew I had to be inside of her, but how? where do I start? I could not interfere her talks with all the pretty boys. My lust was too much, it overwhelmed me and settled for one of her friends. I can only hope she get the story. www.lefturn.wordpress.com
I stepped out of the cab and walked to the entrance of the Thrusting Club, smiling at the doorman as I headed in to join my colleagues. He barred my way with one heavily-epauletted arm. "No members today, sir" he advised apologetically. "What? What is this?" I demanded to know. "I'm sorry sir, but no Thrusting Members are allowed on the premises today." Nonplussed, I headed back to the cab and directed the driver to deliver me to the Knocking Shop.
If We Met
I dream about sitting with you on the hill, drinking wine and eating bread and Camembert. When the sun burns off the fog that curls around the Golden Gate Bridge, we will shed our jackets and I will kiss your neck and whisper fantasies in your ear.
breathing
Your breathing got me every time. As it quickened, I would wait to hear little whimpers that would suddenly turn to moans. Then, you would have a fabulous contented smile.
From the kiss
We could tell from the kiss what it would be like. I leaned over on the sofa to kiss you. When I leaned back, you stayed with me, rolling onto my lap. Within seconds, our clothes were off. I still remember how you moan when you come.
Why is this albino midget in the room with us?
Your first time in a Burmese hotel room; Your timid look when I tied you to the bed. You kept silent when I covered your nude body with cheese and roasted peppers. You started saying something, but once I put my oxygen mask on, it all sounded like a faded murmur. After a while, you pointed to your muzzle so I removed it. You asked: why is this albino midget in the room with us? why is he in a 3rd Reich uniform? and why is he filming this? That's Sam, I answered. And they prefer 'Little people'!
a warm summer night
You said you were not usually attracted to men. We drank, made out the floor then moved to your bed. You kissed my neck as I caressed your ass, then gently slid my finger in from behind. We rolled over, and you arched your back and moaned as I explored your warm wetness. I remember thinking it felt so - resilient. Fascinated to feel the faint contractions as you came. Afterwards you sat naked in the window seat, smoking wistfully.
We broke up a couple weeks later.
You were housesitting, as was your wont. You invited me over and we made out, as was our wont. I encouraged the removal of clothing, as was my wont. You took off your shirt and bra. I took off my shirt. I convinced you to remove your jeans and saw you naked for the first and last time. I asked if you wanted me to remove mine but you didn't. I beheld the magnificence of your genitals for a short while and made an unexpected remark that cracked you up. We put our clothes back on.
Valentines Day
Valentines was the first time. Our friends thought we didn't like each other. It was much worse than that. We never tried to harm. but we broke things. Furniture, showerheads, glass, a finger once. I needed stitches when we rolled off your coffee table. I guess we needed enemies, so we made them of each other. Screaming with you walked a line between lust and anger. I never had a real conversation with you. Sometimes the bruises lasted weeks and weeks.
Pssssssssssssssst, Act II
You said, "Really?" I said, "Really." You asked me if you could just take off my clothes and touch me, and was it ok if we didn't fuck just yet? You admitted to having been thinking about my breasts all night. Please believe me when I say that that night in Relja's filthy futon was the sexiest night of my life.
Pssssssssst, Act I
I ESP'd you SO intently to follow me into Relja's empty bedroom, and couldn't BELIEVE you didn't receive the transmission. We were drunk on jug'o'wine and you were shyer than you seemed and finally you just walked right past the open door; I had to shriek, "psssssssst" at you like a hissing cockroach. "Psssssssst," I said, and you peeked in and saw me lying there, waiting.
Forbidden
You were her best friend. When she said we should see other people, I knew you were off-limits. Still, those were the best two weeks of sex I've ever had.
You had some wine that evening and you gave me a passionate, tongue-rich kiss at midnight. An hour later we were making out on your couch. Eventually you said you needed to go to bed and asked me to help you. In your bedroom you took off everything but your panties and bra and we kissed some more. After a while the bra came off and I kissed your breasts. You got into bed and said good night; our hand guided mine to your panties. I let it explore there, then I kissed you and drove home.
bloody
We were in Portugal, I had my period. We got drunk to celebrate not being pregnant. Then had very enthusiastic and messy sex, and left the hotel room the next morning looking like someone had been murdered in it not fucked. I wish I'd taken a picture of the bloody handprints on the wall.
I never told her but I lost my virginity to you. We'd been making out in the dark and you kept telling me I was a slut, and I kept telling you I liked you. Your breasts felt just right in my hands. We fucked like rabbits and afterwards we felt holy. I shouldn't have kicked you out, I'm sorry, it was special, come back.
Remember when we got that room upgrade? Plate glass ten stories above the lake. It happened to be a heatwave and our relationship was in dire straits and coincidentally there were fireworks, so we took off our clothes and did all kinds of things I'd have probably never done if I had still liked you.
Why?
You've kissed me in my driveway, in cars, in your office, out on dirt fire roads over a valley of lights. We make out for hours and your hands are plenty invited, under my shirt, under my bra, around my back. Tilt my face, kiss my neck, cup my ass, do it more. I don't get why I can't touch you. My hands slide down and you move them away. If I reach for your zipper, you clasp my hands. I suck your fingers, panting, and wonder why you won't let me near that bulge in your pants.
Valuable space.
It was that sort of party. I climbed on the table because I wanted room to dance, not 'cause I was topless and wanted attention. Not that topless was worth much attention at that party. I did kind of mind that you took over the table, frantically kissing, then fucking that guy from our house. I didn't mind it as much as your boyfriend did, though.
I lied to you
I hadn't eaten meat in ten years, I'd never been with a woman before, I did fall in love with you. I just knew better than to let on. I miss you still. And I still eat steak sometimes.
You and You
I had just broken up with my girlfriend, and I needed something to take my mind off it. You two were both so sweet and kind and the movies were funny, the booze was good. We were all over each other. You were both so delicious, your lips and hips and breasts and your sheltering eyes. I'll never forget those few weeks, or regret them. I love you both. I love you, I love you, I love you.
Lost and found
There were two of you. One I would have dinner with: sweet, but not exciting; inquisitive, but not interesting; confident, but not experienced. The other, the you of your writing. There was nothing sexier than your writing. There you were--ferocious, wordly, sophisticated, daring, and startlingly sensual-- that's why I brought you home. I wanted a turn on the wheel that rolled mundane events into gorgeous stories. I wanted in on your private erotica. That meant playing a role in your real life.
That First Moment
You were never more than a crush. Maybe if I played my cards right. Or wrong; just played the damn things. It's a regret, but not a bitter one. But I still remember the moment I first saw you. Standing in front of the campus book store in the long camel coat with spikey blonde hair and those pillowy lips. You were looking in my direction, so you had see me gaping and utterly powerless to conceal it. Just a crush. I'll remember that moment forever.
No Sex
That kiss in the bar made patience worthwhile and impossible at once. And what patience we would need: I was sick, then you were; you were snowbound in Denver and I was called back into work. Finally, you found your way to my apartment in the middle of the day (don't call it a date!) and I guided you to my bedroom. "I'm not going to have sex with you," you said. "Define 'sex'," I said. You paused. You thought. "No," you said.
We had all our orgasms simultaneously. We had perfect timing. We grasped at each other and were lost together. That's why I broke up with my primary for you.
Led Astray
Sometimes I still feel a little bad that that was your first time. But we were drunk, at a costume party. I was wearing vinyl and told you that everything you had heard about women in their 30s was true - I didn't need a drink called a Panty Dropper. That was all it took to get you out of there and into my bed for the night. I do wonder if you wish your first time was less anonymous, less frantic, more personal and romantic. But mostly I wish the story of my first time was half that hot.
Black and White and Red All Over
When I stuck it in your ear, it felt so right. Now there are no more pandas.
Only this
There was no friendship. There was no dating. There was only this. Hard. Fast. Passionate. Always from behind.
History of Civiliation, the History of Argument
And now, I could pass the whole day touching you, knotting my fingers in the hair of your chest, warming your skin with my hot breath. If you were mute, I would have to leave you, because it is the words that your lips form when you speak, and what they mean, that leave me clutching my insides with ache for you.
Marks
We tore into each other for twelve solid hours, the Other Girl and I, and the strangest thing was that when you saw me covered in bites and scratches the next day, you didn't say anything. I thought for sure that would be the end, but it was three more months before we finally split. I should have simply told you, and I still regret that cowardice, but I can't bring myself to regret the sex itself. Every partner I've had since, I've asked to dig her nails deep.
In Vino Veritas
I knew you were making excuses to touch me at work, and I let you because I liked you, and I knew it couldn't possibly go anywhere. Then I made a drunken pass at you at the office party, and we ended up in bed all night, giggling and playing. But I knew it didn't mean anything, I'd just been drunk and impulsive, and I told you it could only be one night. Until you asked me again, a month later, and I fell into your arms. I still dream about you.
Dirty talk, gone bad
I told you that sooner or later I was going to want to talk about something besides sex. But you liked that we were so similarly raunchy and were comfortable that the rest would come with time. Even lying in bed after the first time in person, all sweaty and glowing, you didn't have anything to ask me, weren't curious about me at all. We didn't laugh, didn't share a single idea. It stopped being sexy then.
airport
Hard chairs in the departure lounge, whining engines and sunlight through glass. I leaned forward, moved my hands in complex patterns, and told you with words and gestures and paragraphs that I loved you. And you looked at me, plaintively, took my hand, and said "I love you". I fell back in my chair then, your hand in mine, a fool of too many words when only three were needed.
I beg your pardon?
I was on top, and afterward, while we were lying quietly, he remarked that they sure had used a lot of knotty pine in the lumber in the ceiling. So unusual to see that nearly every board has a large knot in it.
I need a few minutes to think
I am a one thing at a time person; I make lists; I work to achieve goals and then cast them aside. You are a flood resistive of ordering. When you wash over me it's hard to respond - if you were here, I would touch you first. By putting my hands on you and being quiet, I could make you real, maybe even ordered, and then we kiss and touch and talk with no reply needed.
Don't
Please don't call me - I'd like to paint the final stroke on Monday. Provide me with as many details as possible about comings and goings and wheres and whens and I will come get you and bring you and take you; in between maybe we can destroy all of this and have calm for a million seconds...
Don't
Please don't call me - I'd like to paint the final stroke on Monday. Provide me with as many details as possible about comings and goings and wheres and whens and I will come get you and bring you and take you; in between maybe we can destroy all of this and have calm for a million seconds...
Patience
I'm frustrated by the need to say more to her. I want to hear her laugh... I'm so terribly afraid of her... I want to lay my cheek upon the small of her back and feel her beneath it. When I see her again, it will be an odd thing... ahh, patience... will be a good strange day...
She Don't Remember that I'm Boring
What you sent me wasn't a letter, but rather a travel journal... it was like real 19th century writing, I loved it. Made me sulk around for a while for a bunch of reasons like: wow, she keeps giving me art; wow, I miss this CA girl; wow, an act of foreign desperation pasted into the center; wow, wow, wow... showed it to friends, they think there's a girl out there who likes me and say, "Wow, you got a crazy cool artsy chick who digs you, man -- what up?"
Twinkle
Your eyes had a funny way of lighting up at the oddest moments, delighted in the unusual, perhaps. Today, discussing a fistfight, I saw a girl whose eyes did the same thing, and just for a moment, I was in love with you all over again. Then I remembered that she was sixteen and you were a bitch, and the moment had passed. I still don't regret cheating on you.
Pert Plus
You always showered at my place after your workouts, even though your place was just as close. I think you just liked tasting the salt off your shoulders on my lips, but it was a great way to mark an afternoon as ours. After we stopped seeing each other, I had to change shampoo because I could still smell you in my old one. I like my new shampoo better.
Orion's Belt
You said you wanted to try "literally seeing stars." There was something in the way that phrase rolled on your beautiful tongue; I took you up on it, and we made love in the middle of the field. Later, you told me you had hoped a jealous ex would come by. We split not long after, and I've never looked at the stars quite the same.
Ode to SmutShorts
I like you well. You can really get in the groove. Right on brother. You are the smutshorts king. SMUTSHORTS!!! SMUTSHORTS!!! About 14900 people like SMUTSHORTS. I like you a lot in the long run. I like SMUTSHORTS a lot. You are a smutshorts star. SMUTSHORTS!!! SMUTSHORTS!!! You are my special smutshorts. You make the joyride music. I like you a lot in the long run. SMUTSHORTS really whoops a camel's ass. Rock over London, Rock on Chicago. Be a Pepper - drink Dr. Pepper.
Working
...gosh I keep thinking about how sexy you looked last night all covered with plaster. i think the main thing is that somehow you always look stylish and attractive even when you're working. yet, you appear to do this effortlessly without high maintenance...
On the edge of control
Do you remember the last day like I do? You asked me about soup. I was puzzled, but I think you just wanted to talk about something, and I just wanted to cover your mouth with mine to stop the talking. When we left, when everyone else was hugging their goodbyes, I just awkwardly shook your hand. I didn't trust myself to do anything more.
Jail Bait
You were 15. I was at least ten more. You were young, and ripe, and glorious. I was, well, me. When you started flirting I responded. If asked I would have said I was just playing along. Of course you were too young! If honest I would admitted thinking I might teach you a few tricks. In the end nothing happened, but when I saw you pressing him against the wall, your mouth devouring his, your hands so urgent, I realised you could well teach me something about passion.
The Antipodes
Temperate rain forest is the best. There aren't as many insects as tropical rain forest but the vegetation is still nice and lush. So long as you are quiet people can walk by not ten paces away and they won't notice. When you get back to camp covered in dirt you can just say you slipped in a particularly wet bit of ground and nobody will think twice.
Coast, I think. Not Sequoia.
In retrospect, it is sortof an exotic story, but at the time, once we'd climbed to the thick upper branches of a redwood tree, it seemed only natural for him to slide his fingers into my panties to find the wet.
Craigslist
I guess it went as well as a Casual Encounter could. He had a big, pretty cock and he told me I'm beautiful again and again. I think he was disappointed we didn't cuddle all night. I sent him home in the rain, but what did he expect? We weren't friends, and I had a date in the morning.
By The Lake
I told you I had hurt my back. So it is a good thing that I am lying down, my body pressing on yours, my lips pressing on yours, here beside the lake shore. I have only just met you but some decisions, impulsively taken, turn out for the best.
No Thrusting Members
I told him, "no thrusting members." But he said that the cable there was free and that we should at least check it out, since at hotels you have to pay extra for those channels and we'd never do that. I couldn't argue with free, so we hunkered down on the overstuffed bachelor couch to investigate. Face it: as much as you don't want to admit it, even the stupidest, cheapest, bad-acting, retarded-costume-fake-lesbian-role-playing commercial porn is pretty exciting...