Excerpts from a social media inbox…

So, you’re telling me that men actually lead with their dicks?
That’s their opening line?
Like, before they even get your name, you get an eyeful?

Yesssss.
All the time.
Block!!
It comes with the territory I suppose…

Excerpts from a text conversation…

Want some company?

Yes.

Good.
Get started without me.

What …
What do you mean get started without me?

Leave your front door unlocked and put on that little black thing I bought you.
I’ll be over in 45…

A part of me hated that he could read my mind, but another, much larger part, loved it. Like how he knew when to put his hands around my neck and the exact amount of strength that he should squeeze. Or when I wanted him to throw me onto the bed and tell me in no uncertain terms exactly how I was going to pleasure him. And that I was going enjoy every minute of doing so.

He was right, and it was infuriating…

Masie was home alone for the weekend and was going to make the most of it. Maybe a bath with candles, followed by a trashy romcom and some takeaway. Perhaps, hopefully, something more.

Tonight will be divine…

He was always coming home late from work, always tired, and never in the mood. It’s not like I expected much, but I did expect something you know? I mean I get it; a day of labouring must be so draining, and he probably just wants to come home and put his feet up for a while. That would be totally fine if he would at least acknowledge my existence.

One time, I got myself all dolled up. I went the whole hog for him; hair dyed platinum blond, makeup, perfume, heels, and a new saucy piece of black lace from one of the fancy shops. I even got myself professionally waxed! It sure did hurt, but my goodness I have never looked so fresh down there.

He didn’t notice a thing…

I have always been into sex, and frankly, I don’t really see what the big deal is. Why should we limit our relationships to some arbitrary line in the sand that says, “This is the one person with whom I will share my body with”, and subsequently, “That one person has the only body which I am allowed to embrace.”

Fuck that, and while you’re at it, why not fuck me as well. We both know we will enjoy it…

“Look, I’ll admit it, you were right, and I was wrong. Satisfied?” said Frankie adjusting herself on the couch.

“Not yet,” replied Val, shifting slightly. “I think you owe me the full story. Besides, we made a bet and I know you are not one to skirt payment.” He winked at her, and she rolled her eyes. He glanced at her over the top of his glasses and smiled. Giving her the look that she was all too familiar with by now, the one that said, ‘you are a silly goose and you know it, but nonetheless I accept you...’

I never intended to cheat, yet here we are. Every time we catch up I swear to myself that I will end it. Then of course we fuck, and I vow that it will be the last time. I hold out a day or even a week, but inevitably I find myself reaching for my phone and messaging her. Rinse and repeat.

She has become my mistress, and I am a slave to her every whim…

I wouldn’t consider myself to be a bisexual, despite the fact that I regularly fuck both men and women. The male form just doesn’t turn me on, but neither does the female body either.

No, the real turn on for me is the power play.

I love the game. I love it when they submit to me and grant me total control.

When someone submits, it’s as if heaven has opened up and God is speaking directly in my ear, saying “Jamal, this is a gift for your pleasure, use it wisely”.

And I do…

“Sex is like sports; it always helps to have a coach.”

I love Jeff, but my god does he give me some wack advice. I don’t know what happened to him growing up, but that boy was fooling around with the ladies long before the rest of us even knew what part of a woman was supposed to turn us on. Still, I should thank him more often. Or rather, the ladies whose company I have been lucky enough to have the pleasure of, should…

“Do you think they would go for it? I mean, I know men talk the talk, but underneath all that bravado, they really are just scared little boys playing adult,” said Alisa twirling her keys in her fingers.

Suri smiled at her from across the booth and took a sip of her gin and tonic, “We just have to make them think it was their idea. Make them be the ones to bring it up, and when they do, we just push back a little. Play jealous and let them fret over how they will convince us to do it…”

The fucking arsehole just broke up with me two hours before my shift. And here I was thinking it was all going well. He actually said the words, “It’s not you, it’s me.” Like those sounds actually came out of his stupid mouth.

Arsehole!

Unfortunately, a month later, there was a party. Hosted by the one mutual friend who hadn’t chosen sides, my side that is, and insisted on inviting us both…

The first time I saw her, I knew I was hooked. It wasn’t her slim waist or her perky breasts, although they certainly didn’t detract. It was the small things that got me.

Like the way she would lean against the bench with her hips out just so. And the black laced choker that was ever so slightly visible above the collar of her uniform. It was her tongue ring and her dark eyeliner. It was how she looked at me when we talked, with those eyes that just screamed confidence. With those eyes that knew exactly what they wanted…

To say I peaked early sexually would be quite the understatement.

I was a teen. Young enough to still be dragged along to my parent’s gatherings, but old enough to know I didn’t want to be there…

Seriously, being a voyeur in the modern age sucks. There’s nothing to see. All anyone ever does is sit at home watching television. Together or alone, they stare like zombies at a screen. They don’t bother to move, talk, or do much of anything.

Where’s the drama?

Back in the day, you could peep though someone’s window and see some real action. Scarcely would a night go by that you wouldn’t see someone fighting or fucking. But now the only action is on those God damn screens…

Good authors are like an intuitive lover, when you let them in, they will fuck your mind in the most delightful way.

They will tease, entice, and edge you.

They will scare you in the best ways, pushing you beyond your perceived limits and into new worlds of excitement and ecstasy.

You can of course say no.

You can put the book down and walk away.

But if an author is good at what they do, you will be craving more…

A long time ago, Society and Tradition got married.

Initially they lived in bliss, and humanity prospered. Great cities were erected, laws were created, money was invented, and religions were discovered.

But over time Tradition grew discontented with Society, for Society was always changing, and in turn was constantly pressuring Tradition to change as well. Tradition believed that whilst sex was necessary, it was in fact a necessary evil. One to be tolerated, but also shunned. Sex was best performed via ritual, only ever to be used for procreational purposes…

The professor returned to the centre and replaced the microphone, “I look forward to the day when we can all celebrate the union of two or more members of the community in total freedom.” They winked and added, “Who knows, perhaps the reception could be held at a weedery, and we can toast their unions over a finely vintaged red and our choice of green.” There were a few more chuckles from the audience this time. “Thank you for a wonderful semester...”