The Pleasure Principle
You watch two men curled up like babies, sucking on each other and think about joining in, even though you aren’t attracted to men in the slightest. You just want the feel of a warm wet orifice around you, but wouldn’t dare go and slip yourself inside a free space in case one of the men attack you. It’s been like this for days. You are the newest addition to the ward, but they have paid you no attention.
By Rachel Kendall.
What Some of Them Were Wearing
I got picked up hitchhiking on Highway One to Sonoma by a woman in a miniskirt who said after we crossed the Golden Gate Bridge, “Do you mind if I masturbate?” and I said, “Not at all,” and I watched her do that almost to Petaluma on the outskirts of which she came, so I asked her if I could have a souvenir, if perhaps she might consider passing my bandanna between her legs and imbuing it with her moisture, and she screamed, “What kind of pervert are you? Get out of my car right now!” so I did, bandanna still around my sweat-beaded forehead.
By Andrei Codrescu.
Tea At Mama’s
His mama’s out of town and he has to feed the cats. We go there; he wants to make me dinner. I’ve put him on friends-only status ever since he lied to me about my cousin and that hotel room. He tries with me and I laugh. Other times, and again tonight.
But there’s something about the mama’s house, the flashback naughtiness of it. He has me on the kitchen counter with my skirt around my waist…
By Utahna Faith.