heed the silence that follows
truer than any promise made
the sound and fury of a hidden life
you cannot dream this into submission
by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2020
“This is nice.”
I had to admit it was, her soft pillows with their hard buttons bunched up over my belly like that. And the rivulets of commingled sweat pooling in her cleavage beneath come hither eyes and an all-too-knowing smile. Well, that was kinda nice too. I loved that she wanted to try.
If only I could feel something stirring.
She squirmed against me in the narrow near dark of the cupboard. Her flannel shirt was undone, spread open, wife beater hiked up to reveal her aforementioned charms. My own shirt was hanging off the arm closest to the plywood doors that threatened to pop open with every thrub and downbeat. Outside, the party was thumping full throttle. Inside, we were taking a risk. We both had no pants on.
“I need you in me.”
Her bottom lip quivered, just enough to let me know she meant it. She squirmed some more, but neither of us could move nor do much of anything. Perhaps this wasn’t the sexiest idea we’d ever had. I took a deep breath. She winced.
“Sorry!” I squeaked. “Sorry sorry sorry…”
“It’s fine.” She gritted sweetly at me. “It’s fine, my big boy.”
I tried to adjust my breathing, but this only made tears come to her eyes. My girlfriend was no wilting flower, so it wasn’t the pain and discomfort that was getting to her. It was the knowledge that this kinky tryst was clearly not working out. She knew it. I knew it. It was only a matter of who was going to admit it first.
“Don’t call me that!” Her eyes stabbed through me with such heartbreak and longing. “Call me slut. Or whore. Just fucking nail me. Please.”
I cast my gaze about this stuffy box with all the enthusiasm of a wilted fly-fisher on holidays at the fiery lake of hell.
“I’m so sorry.”
God, I sounded so pathetic. Even Gehenna deflated visibly at this point.
“Do you remember our first time?” she said softly, almost to herself.
“You said sorry then.”
I took a breath and added, “Because I was so small.”
She looked up at me. “And I said, ‘Don’t worry, I’ll make you big enough.’”
We didn’t say anything after that. Really, what was there to add?
My name is Nether. I’m too large, and I have a tiny dick.
by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2019
They wished for a baby boy:
the boy turned out
to be just like them.
who else goes into the mix?
by STEPHEN PHILIP DRUCE
© All rights reserved 2018
Erm… hullo there. (This is rather awkward…)
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