• Short Fiction,  Wicked Wednesday

    Marks

    “Purple seemed more appropriate than red … because, well, your name.” I took the roses from him and he shrugged off his coat without hesitation, stooped to untie his boots and tucked his…

  • Short Fiction,  Smut Marathon 2018

    The Red File

    Detective Benson pulled over and put the car in park. He looked across the field to the circus of milling cops and crime scene techs and sighed. When he’d gotten the call, Susan…

  • Short Fiction,  Smut Marathon 2018

    Two Cherries

    Hanoi, Vietnam, 1969. Jack had often thought about that first night, the last night that he could claim any innocence about the world. He had been 18, away from home for the first…

  • Short Fiction,  Smut Marathon 2018

    Weak Flesh

    “Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. It’s been three days since my last confession.” Father Robson sits in the confessional, his soft, pale hands folded in his lap. “Yes, my child, what…

  • Short Fiction,  Wicked Wednesday

    Americano

    My favorite coffee shop is always uncomfortably warm. In the summer they push open the old transom windows under the ceiling and slide open the massive front doors to the patio in an…

  • Short Fiction,  Wicked Wednesday

    Overture

    “Yes … uh huh. That’s right, eight o’clock. Oh, I’m so glad! How fun! I’ll meet you in the lobby. Alright … yes. Bye now.” Alex tossed her phone on the bed and…

  • Masturbation Monday,  Short Fiction

    Yours

    Trigger Warning: self harm It started as a joke, a cute thing that he did to make her smile. They’d had a disconnected week, missed calls and texts, rescheduling dates, finally getting to…