She used to poke me through my cage.

I was wrapped up in chains of all types, but mostly it was guilt, fear, and shame. They often appeared as kindness and empathy, which isn’t at all a bad thing, but there was always something beneath it. She could see right through it all though, and she made it her mission to keep poking until she found what was hiding.

The easiest way in was through turn-ons I didn’t know I had.

“You can’t do anything to me that I will say no to.”

I would growl and push her against the wall as she moaned and shook her head. I’d threaten to tie her to my radiator and fuck her ass until she cried, and she’d moan even louder while telling me I didn’t have it in me. When I slapped her face she’d spit at me. Even when I pushed her to her knees and forced my cock down her throat it was clear she wanted more than I had to give.

The closest we got was in a fantasy world we created after too much tequila. I kidnapped her on her way home from school and tied her to the floor in my room. She struggled and kicked as I tore and cut her clothes from her body and her resistance pulled no punches. She made me work for it, and I knew that if I brought my cock anywhere close to her mouth she would bite. She was always soaking wet by the time I touched her, but still she squirmed and snarled as she did everything in her power to get away. I fucked her as hard as I could, dropping every ounce of restraint I had, and not denying myself a thing.

If I wanted her ass I took it. If I wanted to bite, slap, or choke her I did, but hiding inside her lust was always another challenge. Was that all I could do? Was that the whole monster or was I still holding back. What was I so afraid of?

When we lay exhausted in the early morning hours, I finally untied her, and I held her tightly to make sure everything was okay. She kissed me and said it was wonderful. I wrapped my arms around her and revelled in the destruction we had done to my room, but no matter how far we had gone there was always somewhere else to go.

Each time I returned to normal her love just barely covered her disappointment.

Guy New York

(If you enjoy my writing, you might like my novel, The Island on The Edge of Normal, now available on Kindle and in Print.)

There’s a fairly basic formula for wanting someone so badly it drives you crazy.

If you start with a high dose of attraction you’re half way there. Once you mix in at least one solid reason why you shouldn’t, you’ve almost got it. It’s easiest when it’s an external obstacle: I’m dating her sister, were live too far apart, she’s too married, or possibly she just broke my best friend’s heart. Maybe he’s a student in your class or a co-worker who is just too close. Any of them will do when it comes to someone else telling you it’s not allowed.

Once you’ve got those two, you just need to push against the reason long enough for it to come to a boil. It often starts in the head: I shouldn’t, I can’t, it’s a terrible idea. And that’s bad enough, but when you both know it (and say it out loud) it comes close to impossible.

“We shouldn’t do this, what would your mother think?”

“I can’t, our boss will kill us.”

“I wish I could fuck you without going to jail.”

“Our families will feud for the next hundred years.”

And then come the details. The pot is already bubbling, but once it moves from a vague impossibility to a specific certainty you’re totally fucked.

“What can’t we do?” is the question that starts it all. “If I kissed your neck, would that count? What if I touch you here or what if we just watch? I won’t enter the room, just let me hear you come.”

And when it’s far too late you realize all the places you could have stopped it. You see how months ago if you had kissed in the elevator it never would have gotten this far. If you disrupted the pot before he even knew he was in it, it never would have happened at all.

But then you’re stuck kissing and moaning as you tear clothes off each other’s bodies. No one has ever been this hard or this wet, and no one has ever been so blinded by desire. You’re laughing as you’re biting and scratching, and by the time someone is inside someone else, it’s the most glorious relief in the history of the universe. Your bodies are strong and passion flows through you like a river of fire until you’re both exhausted and yet ready for more.

And somewhere in the middle of it all, you stop to wonder why it can’t always be this way.

—Guy New York

(If you enjoy my writing, you might like my new novel, The Island on The Edge of Normal, now available on Kindle and in Print.)

When beating her no longer worked as a punishment I moved to words.

She had been behaving poorly all day and it wasn’t hard to guess what she was looking for. She kicked her shoes off and she pouted. She put ice in my drink and she was sarcastic about everything. Her phone rang incessantly and she did nothing to silence it. By the time I had finished my whisky, I was bordering on actual anger.

“Go into the bedroom and wait by the foot of the bed,” I finally told her. She looked relieved when she got up, but she still stuck out her tongue as she left the room. I let her wait far longer than I normally would, and by the time I opened the door she was fidgeting where she stood.

“Lift your dress,” I told her. She wiggled her ass at me as she stood leaning over the footboard. She had already pulled the box of toys our from beneath the bed, and she positioned the one she wanted at an angle I was sure to notice.

“Lose the underthings. They’re not pretty.”

She turned and pouted at me as she dropped them to the floor, but still she shuffled on her feet in a small dance of anticipation.

“I’m not going to hit you,” I finally said, pulling a chair up next to where she stood. “Open your legs wider.”

She did as I said, but her twitching slowed instantly.

“I’m not going to slap you, spank you, tie you up, or whip you.” She whimpered as she stood there, and I could see her struggling to be still. “I’m not going to fuck your mouth or your ass. In fact, I may not touch you at all.”

“Please…” she whispered before remembering I hadn’t asked her to speak.

“This afternoon I had a lovely date with a young woman I’m not sure you know. She has pretty blue eyes and the softest lips you can imagine. When she first opened them around my cock I completely forgot I was supposed to see you tonight. In fact, as I ran my fingers through her hair, I didn’t think about you at all.”

She was holding her breath, but as I leaned in closer I could see clearly how wet she was. Her legs were trembling for a completely different reason now.

“I wasn’t even going to fuck her. I mean, we hardly know each other, and it wasn’t what we planned for, but there we were on her bed, her legs opened and she was so sweet and so willing.”

I stood up for a moment and moved close enough to her that she flinched. I touched the air above her skin, and nearly brushed her hair.

“I don’t know how to describe it. She was gentle and tender, and her cunt was so tight I almost came the second I entered her. She kissed my eyelashes as we fucked and even as she clenched around me we smiled and laughed at the sheer pleasure of it all. You know how sometimes you just fit with someone? It’s like your bodies were meant to connect because you’re both shaped exactly the right way for everything to feel perfect?

“Anyway, it’s hard to describe. Let’s just say it was inspiring.”

I sat for a while looking at the soft curves of her ass as she waited for me to continue. Her breathing was fast and her whole body shook as she tried to stay still. She bit her lip as she tried not to talk, and there were tears in her eyes.

I stood quietly and she held her breath. I unzipped my pants and stepped closer. I was painfully hard and for a moment I simply stared at my cock, holding it tightly in my fist. Without another word I pushed inside her. She gasped loudly and within seconds she was coming around me, her tears flowing openly and her whole body shaking in release.

“Thank you,” she whispered over and over again as I pushed her down onto the bed.

—Guy New York

(If you enjoy my writing, you might like my new novel, The Island on The Edge of Normal, now available on Kindle and in Print.)

She was looking out the window when I woke up. She had my bathrobe on and coffee in hand.

“The bed is warmer,” I said, pulling the comforter up to my chin.

“Why did you let me stay here?”

I rolled onto my back, still beneath the blanket. Because I wanted to see if we could fall asleep without giving in? Because I still want to fuck you even though we shouldn’t? Because I love you and miss you, and I thought I could manage them both?

“You had nowhere else to go,” I mumbled.

“You got hard six times in your sleep,” she said.

“You counted?”

“It was hard to ignore. You had your arms around me and your cock was pressing against my back.”

“I’d apologize, but I had no control over anything. Besides, I get hard when you walk into the room. Sleeping next to you was impossible.”

She put her mug down on the window sill and opened the robe. The clothes she had slept in were gone, and I could see goose bumps covering her naked skin. I lifted the blanket without a word and she crawled in next to me.

“What are we doing?” she whispered as I pulled her to me.

“I was planning on fucking you.”

“We did so well last night.”

“We were sleeping,” I said before kissing her for the first time. She collapsed next to me, her mouth open and her hands searching. Within seconds I was inside her, she was beneath me, and all those years of wanting vanished in an instant.

“I didn’t sleep at all,” she said as she lifted her hips up to meet me. I brushed her hair from her face and kissed her again. I kissed her lips and her chin. I kissed her cheek and her neck. I kissed her shoulders, her wrists, and the palms of her hands all because I could.

“Neither did I.”

—Guy New York

(If you enjoy my writing, you might like my new novel, The Island on The Edge of Normal, now available on Kindle and in Print.)