Fucking Stealthers

Hey Motherfucker!

So you think it’s ok to remove a condom during sex, without notice, without consent? 

Wrong, motherfucker!

So you think your pleasure is more important than another person’s rights? 

Oh, hell no! You’re one fucked up asshole! This isn’t normal. Don’t think for a moment that this is fucking acceptable. 

You see, you were granted conditional consent. Keep it wrapped, and you get that pussy. If you remove your rubber without her permission, you just raped!

You’re a rapist, bitch!

Aw, shit! Didn’t see that coming, did you? 

You are going to get arrested. You’re going to go to prison. 

Gee, I wonder if prison movies are like real prison? You better hope not, cause as a sex offender, you are going to get beat, and maybe raped, and raped, and raped. 

You’re an animal and you dehumanize your victims. 

Sex isn’t a game. It’s for real every time. 

Stop your stealthy shit, now! And get some counciling, you motherfucking sociopath. 

Fluid, Like Bursts Of Light

It wasn’t erotic words that created art with my fluid. It was her breath in my ear, well, the sound of her breath over the phone. It was her sighs. It was her laugh. It was the way her voice puts me at ease.

One hour of pleasant Christmas conversation left my black boxers speckled, streaked, spotted, and soaked with pre-cum. The moments of the hour were captured like bursts of light on silver halide. And I was left with a warmth that wouldn’t soon dissipate.


Sinful Sunday

Audio: She Gonna Eat With Both Hands

She Gonna Eat With Both Hands by Eugene Noale

I love when you look at me
Like a treat you’re gonna eat with both hands.
I love when you use your whole body to feast upon me.
Your lips and tongue, the pads of your fingers, of course
But also the tips of your nipples that soften against my warm skin.
Those strong inner thighs and the arch of your feet
That slide up and down my body deliberately. I like that.
You moan and I moan when biting hard, turns vicious.
I prey upon you, sucking supple, your succulent fruits.
But you haven’t had your fill so my hunger will have to wait
Until sated, you lay and let me dip my fingers in your honey
While I suck the tender fur from your peaches.

Audio: Molten Pussy

Molten Pussy by Eugene Noale

You better be wet when I’m ready
To suck your rich and rosy flesh.
I’m too damn hot to stop when I’m coming for you.
You know I’m hard when I’m coming for you.
Gonna dip my dick where lips and tongue tip
Have left you soaked and randy, writhing,
Wanting me, to fill and let spill my heat
In the sweet folds of your molten pussy.


Sterile Waters

Torrents of cum will flow.

Rivers and washouts,

Waterfalls and rivulets,

Will flood your body

Hot, and wet, and fragrant,

Soaking your skin

In the saline waters

That will not ebb

Until I’ve made your

Back arch, one more time.

How You Care For Me

I got nothin, nothin, cold and rain soaked, but a warm need for you. Meet me at the door with your warm lips and towel soft. Warm my hands with your moist breath. Peel my layers away, kissing and drying my damp skin as you peel. Lead me by the hand to our bed. When I am safe between the sheets, peel your own layers. Take care to meet my eyes as your breasts slide out of your bra, when you roll your panties down. I’ve made a place for you here, beside me. Come, and wrap your warm body around me. I love how the heat of your breath, your mouth on my mouth, warms my whole body. As the heat of our naked skin together makes our bellies slippery, I slide my mouth down your tender throat. I whisper, “now, what can I do for you.” You meet my eyes, smile, then slide my warmed fingers over your vulva.

Big Zipper: The Art Of The Cock: Week 50


I was in restroom of a gay bar once, wearing these jeans and the man pissing next to me looked over and said, “That’s a big zipper.”

I looked him in the eyes and said, “Yes it is. It’s very useful.”

He smiled and said, “Oh, I’m sure it is.”


Supposed Shorts


The late afternoon sun cut across the cafe

In sharp points that stretched the shadows

Of chairs on the floor, illuminating, for a moment

The smooth legs of the woman wearing shorts

So short, one could swear she was wearing a long

Shirt and nothing else. Hidden behind a fireplace

He stared and stared, free from the fear of

Discovery. As the sun faded, sliding up her calves

To her knee, he imagined his hands moved on

Her skin. Sliding up, up to where her thighs met

Her supposed shorts. He panted. Wanting so

Badly for her to uncross her legs and show him

What lay between. He rushed to the restroom,

Imagining the feel of her smooth thighs wrapped

Around him as he pressed her against the wall,

Thrusting, thrusting, thrusting to a rapid release.