Hot Words

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Please submit your sexy stories for consideration. 2000 words max.
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We reserve the right to not publish any stories that are submitted.
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Poem: Boundaries Disappear

Hot and humid
We make passionate love
All bodily fluids combine…
Boundaries disappear…

We swim together as one
It’s as if nothing else exists
When we kiss…
Sometimes a hot passion…
Other times a warm tenderness
It doesn’t matter either way
There is a sense of eternity

With or without words
We communicate
We sense each other’s needs
There is a constant desire to take care
Of one another

We do not have to make love
but hold on to…
and feel the smooth contours
of each other’s body

On the Hood

Meredith was sitting so close that Jordan could smell the conditioner she had used that morning. The scent stuck in his nose like cotton. He loved that smell. It reminded him of when he was a child and his mother would hold him after a nightmare, caressing his face and rocking him back to sleep.

Her leg pressed against his, the contact sending electrical pulses throughout his midsection. Her breast rested on his arm as she leaned over him, studying the pictures in the photography book that Jordan was grasping. He wondered if she even noticed that it was there.

one two three four five six seven eight

A woman picks him up. She pulls her car over onto the shoulder and looks at him out the passenger window for a minute before she lets him inside. She does let him inside, though, so he figures he doesn’t look like a killer. He tries not to let it bother him.

First Taste

I remember my first taste of come
how it felt in my mouth
trying to swallow
with dick taking up so much space
not wanting to gag
not wanting to seem inexperienced
I knew it going to happen
yet when it did I was surprised
the quantity the taste consistency
the after taste
the feel of the cock
getting bigger fuller harder
the brief shuddering throb
as sperm jarred out
jammed into my throat
he groaning
holding my head to keep me from pulling
even though I had no intention of pulling
I remember that taste

If the Mood

You step into the dimly lit, slight seedy bar; brushing past a man old enough to be your father in the stairwell. Removing your jacket at the coat check the cool air hits your skin jolting you a little more awake.

You have chosen to dress very provocatively tonight, it is important you get noticed. Pink leopard print corset, black skirt, stockings with a back-seam, dark ruby lips. You look like a pin up. Emphasizing your hourglass shape.


You surprise me with a gift

Presented on your knees
Your touch, reaching, means supplication
You offer to take something from me as your gift.
You offer to deliver me from my tension, my surplus, my weight,
A reprieve from urgency and impatience.
You communicate this to me as an art, a dance,
A giving of your music;
Sounds, affection and sensual movement.
In this, I find purchase in you,
Contained by you.
You watch me, feel me
Growing, knowing
That you possess me.
I am possessed.



The director yelled "Print it!" and everybody on the set cheered. This was the last scene on their shooting schedule for the week; they would've been done hours ago if Rick Slotsky, hadn't kept fucking up his lines. Generally they were all friends. The set was notorious for almost complete lack of friction. But now, at 2am at the end of a grueling 8-day week, after watching the same 10 seconds of screen time played out over and over and over, the crew were busy inventing new epithets for their buddy Rick.