Category: Free Erotica

Erotic Poetry – David Barrett, Part II, image Mihaly von Zichy

Three erotic poems by David Barrett. Image “Liebe Giclee,” by Mihaly von Zichy

‘Darling are you wet?’
she hides her face in my chest
unwilling to let go
for in our embrace
I have grown nearly hard
she presses against me

Minutes ago, as I sat on the bench
waiting for her arrival
I thought of the night
yet to be had
and promised myself
that I wouldn’t shag

As she approached
her hips they did sway
God, help me
back and forth, left and right
as smooth as the skin she wore
and I grew, pulling my jeans tight

Closer she moved with each step
her chest jumping and bouncing, dancing
like it would, like it will
when I finally decide
to rip off her clothes
and put myself inside

To gain the final submission
she must wait, so must I
I tug her hair
she lifts her face up to mine
I turn, taking her hand
Intent on finding somewhere to dine

days, weeks, months later
finally we meet ready for each other
her body is soft, wet
and ready for me, my member
fills her as we both sigh
it was worth all the wait

Mother Nature’s Curse

I kiss her cheek
and miss her lips
for not to intimate

She saw the miss
and wanted more. Ah God!
life’s a whore

But we just said
we’ll not to bed
she, them, all I cannot comprehend

You want it on the mouth?
Without a second thought
we bring what we have brought

All tongue and lips
I touch her hips
and surely it’s divine

My hand it’s free
And like the blind to see
I take what’s given to me

From her hip my fingers trace
her side, her breast, her neck, her face
I drink up all the draught that is my race

Once again I’m drunk and without hate
woman! you do inebriate!
I, me you do debilitate

On her knee, and up her thigh
my fingers they do fly
but at the top I stop nigh

Her skirt is tightly drawn
on legs spread open like the dawn
but I dare not touch the mons

for there’s no guarantee
that if I did I would be free
entangled still might we be

One more trip
one more rip
one more taste of her flavors I will sip

And as my hand comes close
to that which I desire most
I dig into my fleshy host

I would not dare impede
like some rampaging steed
because I know that she does bleed

Mother Nature here’s a curse
You base lecherous sot or worse
and all those impediments in your purse

As I dream of woman’s powers
I walk through fields of dewy flowers
I sit and lick and drink the juice for hours.

That, which, though oft attempted

Walking, just past the crepperie
I pinned her to the wall
her body abandoned all
she whispered in my ear, ‘rape me’

turning her around
I grabbed her throat with my hand
slipped my left past her waist band
around her ass I reached her mound

moist wet, veritably gushing
two think fingers easily entered
soon on them, all her weight centered
all this she did without blushing

From a second story window
a man leaned out and yelled
‘Did you ring my bell?’
‘No Sorry, I’m sorry, didn’t mean to!’

finding a safer location
where we could appease our lust
with each and every thrust
was our new joint vocation

entering her rental car
she sat sheepishly behind the wheel
my bulging pants holding her appeal
I placed her hand to feel how hard

this rock hard she helped to grow
she splayed her body cross the seat
a cop strolled by, walking the beat
her teeth unzipped my slow

I could no longer see her face
my jeans suddenly seemed to disappear
I slapped her hard cross her derriere
she swallowed me to the base

She held that for the longest time
slowly pulling back her lips feeling every vein
now she has no shame
how mother fucking sublime
my right hand on the back of her head
my left quickly ensconced in her pussy
with tongue flicks on my head she said, ‘push me’
who the fuck needs a bed?

she slurped and sucked and tasted
my crotch grew wet with her spit
slowly working it’s way to the leather where I sit
not one movement was wasted

up and down, back and forth
she met each of my gyrations
with earnest enervation
taking my girth as a matter of course

this always seems to take forever
with each successive female failing
to bring me to climax without ailing
their stubborn beings not translating to this endeavor

This though was no common wench
as the violence of our act escalated
her savage desire could not be abated
my fingers felt each and every vaginal clench

you see why I still held out hope
without missing a stroke she made eye contact
I could no more hold back
and shot my load all down her throat

Ribbons of cum filled her hollow
she sucked and jerked and kept me going
I came and came, screamed not even knowing
proved to much for her to swallow

her daft tongue licked up all the excess
in between apologies for not being able to ingest
all of my man’s offertory best
yet I sat back in astonished wonder and bliss

many hours yet remained to this might
in my mind I needed to fuck her right
for doing that, which, though oft attempted
the try not tue, leaves my ending exempted.

Reminder – next Tuesday, The Erotic Literary Salon. Erotica read at the Salon by David Barrett, Part I

Erotica read at earlier Salons, by David Barrett.

By chance I enter this open mic
the last one barren of energy for flight
but here was a female soliciting advice
from a seasoned comic meat head
telling her only to fuck men
who will forward her career
I agree, except for me

It’s her first time on stage like this
I can’t even remember her bit
But I know I laughed at it
When my turn came around
She was no where to be found

After all had spoken
her body screamed I want to be awoken
I asked her if she’d anything to do
She said sure, I’ll go with you

Why is it with a date,
having spent prime time on stage
no activity comes to mind?
We wander east until we find
ourselves in Union Square
incognizant of any stares

succinct matriculation
her open movement of equivocation
drew my eyes to her lips
I leaned in for a kiss

It was a full impassioned affair
the crowds around, ignonimous- I didn’t care
“Shall we find somewhere to go make out?”
“Absolutely, without a doubt.”

We wandered east and south
all the while I was hard
and found ourselves at Tompkins Square Park
Where I thought we’d find some dark

But this search was to no avail
The darkest part along the fence
left many branches in her hair
the crowds still to dense

Her I first felt the size of her breasts
It nearly took away my breath
My dick had been hard for quite a while
Pre cum oozing was going to make my underwear vile
In fact the fucker was starting to hurt
All I wanted to do was remove her shirt
That’s not part of my plan
I’m a pussy man

Soon ensconced under a boarding house stair
passerby’s there, but rare
I tried to remove her bra without unclasping
But there are way to large for such hasty action
And it seemed we couldn’t find
a way to keep the people outside blind

So we retreated to atop the stoop
where we shated a cigarette
and the nerves that make public sex a coup
eyes locked we swore to move forward with no regret

This time better situated
I move with action unabated
Her tits finally unleashed
The largest by far, I had ever breached

Her hand had found my rock hard dick
Mine was on her warm wet pink slit
She kept wanting to talk
All I could think was, “Suck my cock.”

Her jeans moved down those thighs
Latex sheathed my members rise
I turned her face to the wall
moved my pants past my balls
with no pretention
Used my dick to fill her entrance

Stamina in public can be a pain
Her tight pussy very quickly drained
all the liquid from my vein

This quickness left her unsatisfied
so I vowed and tried
I sucked each enormous tit
While she rubbed her engorged clit
this successfully ended with a sigh
we dressed and made our way topside

We didn’t soon part or leave
But went to a pizza shop on Avenue B
talked more but not about sex
until I got that dreaded text

I had to go back were I was staying
and perform sexual favors
to pay my way
“What a mother fucking day!”

So at the train
we parted ways

The next day I picked up the phone
Her breasts monopolizing my thought
I wanted to really make her moan
she answered, “You called, I’m shocked.”


Goddess by Diego

My hands, man’s hands
large and strong sink
into her full red hair
orange red hair
my lover’s hair.
I squeeze my fists,
the hair’s pulled taut
as I guide her head to mine
I press my lips
hard on hers
I pull down
her head thrown back
She lets me part
with my tongue, her lips.
My desire-to devour.
Her desire-to please her man.

I pulled back
our eyes lock
looking deep into each other
I loose my hands
but don’t let go
graze my lips over hers
while my forearms
rest on her shoulders
gently I push her down
down on her knees
before me she reaches up
with both hands
to grasp my flaccid cock
she starts to part her lips
I pull back hard
I lean and kiss-hard
I stand straight
hands still clenched
in her hair
her hands-one on my dick
one on my balls
I guide her head
toward me-still soft and small
she consumes every bit

wet warmth surrounds me
my arousal now begins
she sucks-the pressure
and I grow
I press her face tight to me
opening she flicks her tongue
tickles my balls
taking my hands
out of her hair
the face still pressed to me
and I grow
she takes me out
grips me firm in her hand
moves lower, licks from base to head
I love the way
she loves my cock
fully erect
she swallows me
I place my hand
on the back of her head
deep inside her mouth
still harder yet
my cock’s head expands
she gags
my liquid begins to flow
she loves the taste
sucks it up
taking me slow, deep
inside then out
flicking my head with her tongue
we make love
I to her face
she to my dick
drinking more liquid
with each stroke
my excitement mounts
she starts to moan
louder and louder
as in and out I go
louder and louder
releasing her mouth
pumps me with her hand
her own orgasm
arrived sooner than mine
from nothing more
than sucking me off
I grab her head
and shove my dick inside
pump once
pump twice
Fuck her face
Cock explodes
my load in her throat, her mouth
she drinks all I offer
not losing a drop
thumb on my vein
at the base of my cock
squeezing my vein
gets it all
her pace slows
I pull her head
I lean and kiss
wet lips and mouth
My Goddess…


She lies like a corpse on a deathbed,
though her moans belie the thought.
And the neighbors surely know that,
She’s alive and as well as there can be.

And there I lie on top of her
Driving into her ruminating how long
It will last and how loud she will get
When I’m brought back by nails in my back.

So I grab her hair, she arches back
And screams in French.  Hope it’s good.
Then we relax and still I slam
And now our bellies make that smacking sound.

Once again she’ll not on top, beds too noisy,
And just as begin to tire, the angle strikes it right
My sweat covered body works through the end.
There we lay in humanities most honest state


Halloween Free Read: Extract from “Weekend at Wilderhope Manor,” Lucy Felthouse

Lucy Felthouse knows she has a standing invitation to be a featured presenter at the Erotic Literary Salon. She promised to come as soon as she perfects her swimming stroke to cross the Atlantic. Actually, those were my words. Lucy resides in the UK, so we get to enjoy her erotica in book form. Her publisher has given her permission to offer a Halloween gift, an excerpt from, “Weekend at Wilderhope Manor.” Access Amazon through this site to purchase book in its entirety.

Lucy’s blog:

Weekend at Wilderhope Manor, by Lucy Felthouse

“The car trundled up the long driveway, the crunching of gravel beneath tyres the only sound as Stephanie and her girlfriend, Jenny, peered out of the windows at their surroundings.

Even at dusk the tree-lined driveway was impressive with perfectly maintained
parkland, spanning for acres on either side of it. As Stephanie steered the Fiesta around
a bend in the track, they both gasped. Their destination, Wilderhope Manor, had come
into view and it was stunning. The Tudor style property was huge, with no less than
three frontages visible from where they were. Chimneys with intricately built patterns
jutted into the darkening sky, with tangles of ivy climbing parts of the manor, giving
the place an appearance that was both beautiful and foreboding.

Presently, the driveway opened out into a gravelled area, which as far as Stephanie could tell, doubled as a car park for the weekend. Stephanie manoeuvred into a spot between two vehicles and killed the engine. As she turned to Jenny, she jumped, startled. Her girlfriend had leaned in close, making a scary face with her hands mimicking claws.

“Are you ready to be scared out of your wits, young lady?” Jenny rasped, wiggling her eyebrows and fingers theatrically.

Stephanie shoved her playfully, laughing. “Come on, you silly cow. It’s a murder mystery weekend, not a monster hunt. There will be no ghosts, ghouls or vampires involved.”

Stephanie got out of the car and closed the door. She’d already popped open the boot and started unloading their bags before Jenny appeared alongside her, pouting petulantly.

“But it’s Halloween tomorrow,” Jenny insisted. “Anything could happen. The veil between the living and dead will be at its thinnest, and this place is meant to be swarming with ghosts.”

“If you say so, sweetheart,” she replied, rolling her eyes. She was used to Jenny’s crazy beliefs by now. “Grab your bags and let’s get inside. It’s cold. You got the tickets?”

Jenny nodded, brandishing her handbag in response. Jenny picked up her overnight bag as Stephanie slammed the boot lid before locking the car, then followed her toward the grand entrance to Wilderhope Manor.
* * *
A little while later, they were installed in their room. They’d each been handed a “Welcome Pack” by the staff member who had attended to them at Reception, which consisted of their itinerary and instructions for the weekend.

As they unpacked, she voiced one of the thoughts that had run through her head.

“Have you ever noticed how places never bat an eye at two girls sharing a room, and yet, if it’s two guys, they automatically assume they’re gay?”

“They’ll soon change their tune when they see your outfit for tonight!” Jenny replied, grinning cheekily at her. “It screams ‘lesbian’ with every stitch!”

“Whatever do you mean, you saucy wench? Someone with girl parts dressing as a distinguished gentleman does not a lesbian make.”

“True, but I wonder what it’ll do to you? Perhaps it’ll work in reverse and turn you straight!”

“I sincerely doubt it,” Stephanie replied, moving toward Jenny, who’d turned back to her case and didn’t notice her approach. “And besides, as much as I’m out and proud, doesn’t it sometimes make life more pleasant when people don’t know? At least, we’ll be able to enjoy the weekend without old bigots watching our every move, convinced we’re going to start necking and groping one another at every available second!”

Before Jenny could respond, Stephanie had walked right up behind her. She slipped her arms around Jenny’s waist and murmured into her ear. “Though I certainly wouldn’t mind necking and groping you at every available second.”

Relaxing into her embrace, Jenny let her head loll back onto Stephanie’s shoulder,
arching into the caress of the hands that had crept under her top. “I’m available now,

“I’d hoped you’d say that.”

Reminder – Tuesday, The Erotic Literary Salon – Live; Erotica excerpt from novel

Tuesday, Erotic Literary Salon – live with featured presenters from Shijin, a CT. based poetry performance troupe.

The following piece is an excerpt from a novel read at one of the first Salons.

World and Time
A Novel
Sarpedon Eleftherios

When she awoke after, she kept her eyes closed. Her vagina was a bed of embers in a winter fireplace.  She opened her eyes and turned to look at him, a kid’s smile crossing her face.  He was sitting up against the headboard, his arms around his knees.  The muscles of his shoulder and arm on her side were in repose, but showed the defined mancurves of strength.  Soft blond hair carpeted the top of his thigh she could see.  His temple was silvered, but the stubble on his face was chestnut.  He was looking at her, expressionless.  His blue eyes seemed far.  She felt her sex moisten again.  He raised one arm, slowly, ran fingers through his hair, and returned it to his knee.  He made as if to speak but did not, then raised and lowered his eyebrows and managed a grimace.

An electric shock of fear jolted her.   She inhaled sharply. Her mouth involuntarily made an “O” and she exhaled through it.  She pursed her lips before she spoke.  “I… I think I know what you’re thinking.”

His brows knitted.  “What?”

“How I, could, uh, do all that.”

He started.  “No, no,” he lied, shaking his head too fast.

He watched her raise her eyebrows at him. In fact, his brain was a shambles. Oh God, he thought, not some crazy I don’t know what under all those degrees.  After pouring myself out to her.  In every way.  But how could she not be?  Jesus, things he’d never even heard even the German girls did—his aching, shriveled, still-damp member twitched– the ones with the purple evening gloves who lined up in the off-base parking lot…. He looked down between his knees.  He scowled, and then his face drooped, as if he would cry.

She was overwhelmed with love for him and compassion terror and sadness and hating herself all over again.  She lunged for him and threw her arms around his neck and kissed him again and again and began to wail.  “No, Gordon, no, no, it’s not that.”

“Okay.” His blond head rose and turned, as if by a tiny silent motor, to look at her face.  “Then is it something?”  He spoke so softly she could barely hear.

OmiGod he is as handsome and terrible as a god and he’ll be so angry and disgusted, she thought. She shrank from him, sniffling.  I would hate to be anybody he had had to kill.  Please save me, don’t let him leave me, she said to no god and to all gods.

She remembered his father had been a minister and he was an only child.  OhGodohGodohGod what will he say what will he do…  “Gordon, I know you think I must be a terrible whore, a slut.”  She began to sob, tears cascading down her face, her eyes beseeching him desperately not to think it.

She means she’s not, he thought.  He felt new feelings arise, and they warred fiercely with the others.  He felt warmth, but not the warmth in his loins, that was gone now.  He tried to calm himself.  “Carla.”  His voice had cracked saying her name and he felt like a fool.  He cleared his throat with a hawk, snapping his head from left to right.

She was looking down now, still sobbing.  Her shoulders shook.  She looked up at him.  Her eyes widened.  “Yes?”  She struggled to stop heaving.  She wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands like a child.

“Look, I’m sorry.  I’m not a…a prude or anything.”

She felt hope flare, then gutter.  Her mind raced.  Her emotions swung wildly.  “I guess not.  I wasn’t the only one, was I?”  It wasn’t a question.  “I mean… of us.”

“No, no, you weren’t.”  He looked between his knees.  “Uh,” he said. Godammit, I’m  NOT going to ask about her sexual past or her former husbands or boyfriends married men or anyone, anything.  He felt stuck.  But he forced himself.  “Well, I’ve, uh, been lonely since Margaret died. And I fell for you hard.  Really hard.  Really that first day out .  The first morning at breakfast.  And I guess I wanted it to go… to be… and I wanted to feel, uh, safe and well, special to someone that I would….”  Well, go ahead, asshole, abase yourself some more.  Christ, I sound like a total pathetic fucking idiot.  But I am that.  With her.  He ground to a halt ponderously, like a tank with its treads blown off.  He realized he wasn’t looking at her. But also that she wasn’t making any noise anymore.  He raised his head and turned to look.  She had stopped crying and was looking at him astonished.  Her eyes were wide.  Her mouth was open as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“Oh, Gordon.”  She ached for his sake and for hers too and loved him and wanted to throw herself on him again and hug him and never stop, but her judgment and self-possession were unsteadily returning, and she knew she had produced the elephant in the room and they were both in its shadow.  She was sitting up with her knees folded under her.  She suddenly felt her nakedness.  She raised and spread her hands and lurched into speech.  “Gordon, I panicked.  I’m sorry.  I… I feel the same, I ….”  How do I tell him I love him and then tell him about this?  It’s like serving crème broulee and catshit on the same plate, she thought savagely.  I’ll have to go step by step.

He was looking down now, embarrassed.  All he could think was, She loves me.  She actually does.  She loves me.

But she didn’t know that.  She took a slow breath. “That was very kind what you said.”  Her voice started to shake.  She steadied it.  She had never told a man, not even her kindly father who had forgiven her anything and what a woman could never tell her father anyway, what she was dreading to tell him.  Just tell it.  You could lose everything either way. “I’ve been lonely too.  I have come to realize that I imposed it on myself, that… I withdraw from people.  Beginning a long time ago.”  Okay, she thought, that was okay.  She paused.  He was looking up now. His face was opening again.  Thank God thank God thank God she breathed to herself.  “And so.”  This was the hard part, so very hard.  Go.  Tell it!  “And so, in college…”

“M.I.T.” he said.

“Yes.  M.I.T. was… hard.  Frosh year one of my roommates, a Chinese girl from New Jersey, committed suicide.”  Oh God it was so horrible finding her dead. What is it like for him, who has known so much death? Then she felt relief.  This was the way to start.  She closed her eyes tight and opened them, blinking. She had struggled viciously to suppress that memory.  How the dead girl’s mother, crazy with grief, had screamed at her.  “You no friend my daughter.  You cold.  Evil! Shame!”  Carla began to cry again, softly this time.

“That’s too bad.”  His hand stirred from his knee, as if he would reach out to her.  Yes, it was good to start here, maybe it’ll help him understand..  Her heart raced at the thought.  She took a deep breath.

“Yes, it was terrible.  It made me scared of making friends.  Of everyone.  I began to withdraw from people.  I went to class, the library, and the gym.  And track.  A professor took an interest in me.  The first older man in my life who didn’t want to put his hand on me or sleep with me.  He was wonderful.  He was a paleontologist.  So here I am.  A paleontologist like him.”  Not too fast, she thought.  “But there was a lot in between.  He was very sweet and totally sexless.  He made me feel safe.  Happy even, in a thin way.  But that reminded me of being lonely too.”

My God, he thought.  I thought I was the shy one. His feelings roiled.  She’s a leopard, a cheetah, my lover, my friend, my inspiration, fierce, funny, independent, maddening, unpredictable, a conscience, a goad, a goal. Some of these images were not conscious, just fleeting images. He ran out of things that she was.  Dear God, do I love her. I don’t care what she is.

But she couldn’t hear his thoughts.  “Anyway.”  She cleared her throat.  “Late one night I discovered… well, no, I knew about, but anyway I stumbled across… no, that’s not true, I went looking.”  She looked down again.  Her voice was so low he could barely hear it.  “Porn-o-graph-y.” She pronounced it slowly.  “I mean on the Internet.”  She kept looking down.  OhGodohGodohGod there it is I said it sounds so cheap and ugly like some pimply fat girl in a Snoopy sweatshirt fingering-herself pervert.  She didn’t dare look up.

“Hmh,” he grunted without thinking.  A curse of youth, he thought.  Well, I was no better.  He remembered how he spent his first night each visit home from the Point after his parents were asleep.  He had made sure to do his own laundry.

She was going on.  “I knew normal women don’t like it, it turns them off, it’s not a problem for them.  So I didn’t tell anyone.  But I got worse and worse and then I began to collect it.  On my hard drive and after Computer Services sent an Assistant to inspect my computer, for viruses or something—I was terrified and I’m sure he found the evidence but he never said anything.  Or did anything.  I guess.  I was scared of him for weeks—so then I was collecting it on my cell. Video clips.  Pictures.  Then when nobody came to kick me out of school—would they have?  No of course they wouldn’t.– I went back to the computer.  I made collections.  And then select collections of my collections. I signed up for Websites.  I kept up my grades. Schoolwork was my relief from the porn .  But I was distracted by it.  I almost got bounced from the track team.  But I couldn’t let that happen.  I’d lost my mind, my basic decency but by God I was not going to lose my body too.”

His mouth had begun to open.  She darted a look at him, and it didn’t look good to him.  But it didn’t necessarily look bad.

She paused.  What does that look on his face mean?  Her skin felt clammy.  “But I learned some things, however… gross most of the stuff was.”  She was looking down now.  I’ve got to convince him why.  “I realized I didn’t like the most of the regular sex stuff, because the guys were always leering, high-fiving each other, cursing and calling the women sluts and whores and pumping them so hard, bang right from the start, it was painful.  You could see the women wincing, trying to hold the guys back with their hands, or slow them down, sometimes yelling with the pain.  But then there was the oral sex….”  She stopped.  OhGodohGod.  She closed her eyes.  Then opened them wide and snapped her head sideways urgently to look at him.  “Are you.. can you…. hear this?”  Do I want him to? she thought.

He was gaping at her now.  But he hadn’t heard what she’d said.  Suddenly he realized she had spoken and recalled that it sounded like a question.  “Uh.  Oh, no.  I mean yes, it’s okay, sure, go on.  Do you want to?”

She felt braver, fleetingly rash.  She felt the hood of her clitoris firming.  Her hips shifted and she sat up straighter.  “Okay. So.  I began to refine my collection to consensual, loving. I’ve never been with a woman and don’t want to, and I don’t get excited about a man being with a man—I wouldn’t ever forbid it to anyone or condemn it.”  He raised his eyebrows and nodded at the last remark. Why did he do that?  She forced herself on.  “But I found it was the bisexual stuff where all the models, the men and the women, were the most tender with each other.  All kinds of sex, but slow, uh, wet, and a lot of … gentling, as if they really cared not just about their own pleasure, not even only about each other’s pleasure, but cared about each other.  Not just… well… ass-slamming.”  She cleared her throat.  “So.  I had my own massive, refined, world-class personal Porn Ph.D. library.  I carried it from college to graduate school to postgraduate school.  I got single rooms.  I didn’t have boyfriends.  Oh, some tried.  They all seemed like jerks.  They got turned on by my body.  In the gym they would stare and the brave ones would hit on me. They were putting their eyes all over me wanting to touch me.  I think most of them didn’t even want to sleep with me.  They were too afraid.  Just memorize what I looked like and then go masturbate.  Creeps.  I hated it. So I got to wearing full sweats or warm-ups all the time in the gym, and outside running too, even in hot weather.  I bought them two sizes too big.  So the jerks just stopped noticing me.  They couldn’t see anything.  Oh, and that wasn’t all. No.  I got pretty intimidating in class.  Finally all that worked.  The women didn’t like my looks and neither the men nor the women liked my brains.  I went around in my own little world.  I had a life at night.”  Such as it was.  “I fell in love, I guess with the models. Instead.   No—I mean, not with the actual models, the actors.  With the love.  The love they were giving.  And getting.  I mean, I never wanted to meet them.  I looked at some part of the best of my collection almost every night.  When I went through the best once, I went around again.  I studied them.  How they looked.  All the models in my best ones were good looking.  You know, the women toned, even athletic, not just floppy tits and cottage-cheese butts.  The guys well-built, athletic.” The two naked  young men with chiseled bodies sitting on the bed, the trim young brunette lying naked on her back with one man resting the back of her head in his lap, his semierect member lying alongside her face, as three fingers of each of his hands cupped a small, firm breast while thumb and forefinger pinchrolled its nipple, the other man at her crotch, her legs wrapped around his waist, his hips moving his strikingly thick cock slowly in and out of her, and her eyes closed, her lips parted, she in total trust and utterly oblivious to anything but sexual pleasure.  “The best was hard to find.  It took a lot of time.  But I found it.  Do you know, the women do it for money, but the men do it free, for the sport?  I read that.  Anyway, I got interested in what was underneath it.  Did they care about pleasing each other?  Did they seem to care about each other?  Was the desire real?  Where it was, or I couldn’t tell, those were the ones I liked.”

She hadn’t looked at him for some time.  She paused to steady herself.  “Well.  So I realize now that over time I just, uh, memorized, really, without particularly trying to, the things they did.  That I liked.  That … I wanted. That I would do with … someone.” She blinked rapidly and a  tear ran down her face.  “Down to each little detail.  A hand here, a tongue there, how long this, how long that….”  She became suddenly silent.  Okay, okay, she thought.  That’s done.  She sat erect.  “Tonight was the real life that I could actually have!”  Her eyes fixed on the side of his head, pleading.  He had stretched out his legs, his face tilting down toward his hands folded on the tops of his thighs.  His member was shriveled, motionless.  For an outraged moment she thought he might be asleep.  She tilted her shoulders and head down, breasts swinging, and looked up at his face.  His eyes were open.  They looked at hers.

She took another big breath and resumed.  “So, I … have to finish.  Don’t I.” Do I?  Should I just stop now?  She cleared her throat again.  Another breath.  “I didn’t just fall in love with the porn. I…. I….”  This is it, she thought.  This is where he walks.  “I…  bought ….uh, vibrators.  Two sizes.  Shit, tell him, it explains that, too.  “For two places.  I came within a breath of buying a screwing machine off a Website.  One with a piston and gears and an electric motor.  With my poor retired academic parents’ money they sent me.”  She put her hands in her face.  Her head and shoulders shook up and down and tears began to run from between her fingers.  She snatched her head up and sniffled in fiercely.  “But I couldn’t bring myself.  I just couldn’t.  Thank God.”  She wiped a forearm across her brow.  This is going to finish it, she wailed to herself.  She couldn’t look at him. “So,” she was speaking in a whimper now, “I used those.  Night after night.  In the daytime.  Holidays when no one was around.  Of course I was always around.  No one asked me anywhere.”  I took care of that, she thought bitterly.  “At least it was a comfort.  No creeps looking at me sideways, no sex too horrible to imagine.”  Her head felt as if it would explode.  Do I sound ridiculous? Do I sound even sane? I can’t tell anymore, she despaired.

She was beginning to feel exhausted.  She didn’t know why, but she wanted him to know the rest.  The last of it.  To get it all out.  She spoke fast now.  “During post-doc I met Bohm.  I don’t want to tell everything.  Not the academic part.  That was hell.  I thought my career was gone before it started.  But the … the physical part.”  Is a woman supposed to tell a man this?  What am I doing? Why?  She looked at Ralli wistfully.  Ralli didn’t look up.  I’m talking to a stone.  Her skin chilled, her sex numbing.  Maybe I need just to tell this to myself.  So she continued in a low monotone.  Finish it out, make him understand I could actually love someone.  Or wanted to enough to try.  “Bohm was gentle. He’s the gentlest man in the world.  Even more than Father was.  So I fell for him.  I was hopelessly in love for the first time and I felt so safe, at last.”  She sighed.  “At last.”  She began to cry again, softly this time.  “And so I wanted to do something physical with him, anything.  But that’s when it all died, everything.  That killed it.  His gentle wasn’t enough.  He just couldn’t do it. I seemed strong to him, I think, and he liked that at first, when we met, but it made him scared when we finally tried to make love.   And after opening myself to him.”  She looked up at Ralli afraid.  “Just a little, not like this,” she hastened.  “I was too scared to tell him all I’ve told you. Why do I think Gordon will understand when I was sure Bohm couldn’t?  She looked down.  “He couldn’t make love to me.  He tried.  But he couldn’t. He couldn’t get it… you know.  Then he was ashamed.  He acted like he wanted to die.  It was him.  But it was me, too!  I felt so failed and worthless.”  She paused.  “Worthless,” she said with anger.  She started to cry.  Suddenly she snapped her head sideways violently. He felt a flung tear splash his cheek. She glared at him.  “There. I told you,” she almost shouted.  She was now enraged.  She didn’t know at what.  Or whom.  Him.  Herself.  Everyone.  No one.

She raised her hands, waving her palms at him and howled, “Maybe you’d rather I actually was just a goddamned dirty slut.  Then at least you’d have an excuse to want to see me again.”  She threw herself away from him to the other side of the bed, on her stomach, sobbing and heaving.

When she woke in the morning, she lay where she had fallen. The sheet and the pad under her face were wet.  She looked up abruptly. What was last night? Friday?, she thought.  Oh.  She let her head fall to the bed.  Then she felt as if a safe had dropped on her.  She was naked and her head ached, as if she hadn’t breathed enough.  She felt abject and defenseless.  She snapped onto her left side to look across the bed where he had been.  No one.  Nothing.  Her apartment was silent.  She was sure was gone.  Forever.