I want you to say my name. We are on his sticky green couch, naked, in the middle of the day, and I am riding him hard and fast. I pull him closer to me, shoving my hands in his hair and grinding my clit slow against him.
And for readers, sometimes that same experience can happen after poring through a single short story by an author. Arnett, a queer fiction and essay writer, published her first short story collection, Felt in the Jawwith Split Lip Press in Arnett and I talked on the phone recently after The New York Times featured her novel as one of the most anticipated summer reads.
But more than that, I would like to tell you about the water, the source from which these stories arise. Today is the first of September, and in the hail of events that collides with our world the following incident has taken place in my family, our family, in which I am number eleven, the one who writes, who talks to the outside world. But the question is: who would read such a novel?
Quickie sex, quickies or "having a quickie", all refer to a brief or spontaneous episode of sexual activity, with the couple finishing it in a very short amount of time. A quickie does not require full copulation, it may be limited to oral sex or mutual masturbation. Generally a couple will skip foreplay as the urgency of the situation dictates a speedy finish. Quickie sex stories are also referred to as short sex stories, where the plot is normally quite scant, and the characters are thrust into the action almost from the word go.
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I fumbled for the electronic switch on the armrest for a few seconds until I found it. The sound of the wind gradually subsided until everything fell silent. Everything but the seamless drone of the car engine.
Most of them have a general admissions policy on their beds. Himself from last night had bolted pretty much after our entwinement. He was nothing special.
Somewhere, a guy has a photo of me sitting topless in an office chair. Not just an office chair, in fact: the chair he sat at from nine til five, every day for over two years. My face, turned slightly away from the camera, is grinning with post-coital happiness. Perhaps all three.
Regarding swearing, George Carlin said it best:. Right fucking now. One of my beta readers for Evil Looks Good pointed out my overuse of swearing in my rough draft manuscript, which surprised me until I went back and read it again.