• Counting

    He didn’t want to hurt her; and he wanted, badly, to hurt her.  It was their sweet spot, their shared interest.  Their communion (though neither was, in fact, a Catholic).  Her pain, and his infliction of it, was where and how they bonded. “Eight!” she counted, as the lash fell again across her back.  He…

  • Dessert

    I am sitting in the armchair, opposite you, reading quietly to myself. When you wake up, you are tied to the bed: in a sitting position, so I can look directly into your eyes; arms above your shoulders and restrained; legs spread open, tied at the ankles. I have moved the chair close to the…

  • Anger Management (IV)

    He was speaking to her, she knew that.  She could hear the words but couldn’t make sense of them.  It was more of a rushing in her ears, part of her hypersensitivity to all that was happening and all that surrounded her: this man, this hotel room, the strangeness of it and the irresistible pull…

  • Anger Management (III)

    She closed her eyes.  She tried to slow her breathing again, close her ears to the noises in the hallway: of guests coming and going and of doors slamming, of arguments that started in the elevator, of squeaky room service trolleys. She opened her eyes and saw his back.  He was at the desk —…

  • Tie Breaker

    She was torn: her intellect pulling one way, her desires quite another. She had left the hotel feeling a little giddy; a little sore; and definitely wanting a repeat engagement. He felt the same way as first encounters went, this was one for the books, one that he’d remember. First encounters are always a bit…

  • Anger Management (II)

    His hands brushed against her arms again; she shivered, again.  Up and down, gently.  One hand brushed carelessly across her sleeveless top, buttoned up the back.  Her nipples were stiff, presenting themselves to him through the top, through her sheer brassiere.  She willed them to soften, tried willing her heart to slow down, her breath…

  • The Rough

    The seventh hole is short, a par 3; the tee is secluded, past a wooded area which shields it from the sixth green and the rest of the course. As we bump along the forest path to the tee, you lean over and kiss my cheek. I check the path ahead, then quickly turn my…

  • Balcony

    Hand-in-hand, they made their way through the inner precincts of Angkor Wat. They moved slowly, turning their heads every which way to catch every detail, trying to commit it all to memory and knowing they never could. They resisted the temptation to capture the sights with their cameras and smartphones: this was as much to…

  • Lips

    , ,

    It was a favorite view, for him.  Maybe not his absolute favorite — doubled over, hips high, everything spread and eagerly waiting — but if not, it was a very close second.  She was on her knees.  He watched her lips part slightly, her tongue gently bathing his hard shaft, her lips closing softly, her…

  • Betrayal

    When she arrived at the apartment, the door was slightly ajar; from inside she could hear him clattering in the kitchen. He had dialed up his Hot Tuna playlist, “Keep Your Lamps Trimmed and Burning” competing with the chopping and sizzling noises. She knocked and pushed the door open without waiting. “Hello, darling.” He was…