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Quick and Dirty: Seven Short Erotic Stories

Quick and Dirty: Seven Short Erotic Stories

Von Guy New York, Greyson Ferguson, M Kay und

Vorschau lesen

Quick and Dirty: Seven Short Erotic Stories

Von Guy New York, Greyson Ferguson, M Kay und

3/5 (13 Bewertungen)
104 Seiten
1 Stunde
Jul 31, 2020


An underground club for the sex-starved. An academy for erotic escorts-in-training. A date that ends with an unexpected game.

Travel to places where desires are indulged and fantasies are created, with this collection of eight short erotic stories from favorite erotica authors.

Stories include:

"The Blindfold Game" by Guy New York; "Burning Desire" by Greyson Ferguson; "The Key" by M Kay; "Behind the Garden Wall" by Rachel Stark; "Coral" by Cynthia Plume; "Spray" by Gia Tudoran; "The Seance" by Jack Stratton

Jul 31, 2020

Über den Autor

Guy New York is a bestselling erotica author, designer, and degenerate who spends most of his time either writing about sex or having it. Sometimes he does both at the same time, much to the chagrin of his partners. With more than 75 titles to his name — including four full-length novels, ten novellas, and numerous short stories — his books have been widely read and often burned. Visit his author site at

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Quick and Dirty - Guy New York


The Blindfold Game

by Guy New York

Before my first date with Kitty, the most I knew about her was that she had read something I wrote about a blindfold. And she liked it.

Maybe that’s as good a start as any, and I’m sure plenty of relationships have started with less, but knowing a thing and talking about it openly and honestly are quite different. Especially when it comes to kinky sex. Plenty of us begin by testing the waters mid-flight.

We’ll gently place our hand on someone’s throat and see if they moan or look at us funny. Maybe someone will playfully slap our ass, and our response can set the tone for what comes next. At the best of times, someone pins your arms above you hear, and you bite your lip and beg for more, and at the word of times (relatively speaking) you slap someone across the face, and they sit up in anger and ask you why the hell you did that.

To say sex is complicated is an understatement, and when it comes to kink, it’s more so. But that doesn’t mean we can’t manage it, and it certainly doesn’t mean that we’re not all capable of having enough honest conversations to take our sex lives from ‘hey that was nice’ to ‘holy fucking hell I don’t think I can walk for a week.’

Which brings us back to Kitty, because all I knew that very first date was that she read my story and she liked it.

Instead of taking her somewhere obvious––like Lolita, Madam X, Big Daddy’s, or the strip club at Mrs. Smith’s School For Wayward Catholic Girls––I took her to Lilac Row, which happened to be my favorite restaurant.

The place sits at the end of a long alley, which is unsurprisingly lined with Lilacs. It’s quaint, hard to find, and the food is incredibly delicious. It’s less farm to table and more table to farm: the interior is full of plants, bright natural light, rich smells, and oddly enough, the sound of birds.

I kissed her on the cheek when she met me outside the door, she squeezed my hand in greeting, and the two of us walked inside where the hostess showed us to our table. I had asked for the one in the corner––next to the taxidermy collection and the banana plant––and they did not fail to deliver. I pulled out the chair, Kitty sat down with a smile, and I joined her with a hopeful yet quickly beating heart.

Thank you for coming! I mean, it’s lovely to see you. Outside of a party, that is. What I mean is, it’s nice to be on a date where we can talk and get to know one another instead of at a sweaty loft surrounded by the sounds of spankings and moaning.

I took a breath because otherwise, I would continue to blurt out my excitement until the poor woman decided that even the ramp custard prominently featured on the menu wasn’t enough to keep her there with a complete nut-job.

I’m glad you asked me out. I was surprised, but happy too. It’s so hard to get to know people at events, and sometimes I feel like all we ever do is beat each other up at parties and then not talk until the next one. It can be fun, but it doesn’t suit my kinks.

Before I could ask her to list them––alphabetically, of course––the server came over and asked us what we wanted. She ordered a glass of rosé, I ordered a perfect manhattan and to start things off I got a dozen oysters: six west coasts and six east. She nodded in approval as both of us took a moment to take in the lush surroundings while we waited for our drinks. Thankfully, we didn’t have to wait long.

I like parties too, but I don’t usually play at them, I confessed. I guess most of my kinks are more in the head than anywhere else, and it’s hard when I feel like I’m performing instead of just playing. Also, I don’t want to creep people out.

I laughed nervously at the words, but they were honest all the same. While it was one thing to tie someone to a wall and spank their ass black and blue with a flogger or a paddle, it was another to dress them up in a plaid skirt and whisper creepy things in their ear while pretending to be their professor.

I like creepy, she said shyly. Maybe that’s why I liked your story so much.

It was my turn to blush, this time into my manhattan as she buried her face in her wine.

A few weeks back, I mentioned at a party that I needed some help editing something, and out of the blue, she volunteered. We knew each other in passing, but we had never spent much time talking. Nevertheless, her offer was sincere, and I took her up on it with a warning that it might not be her thing. When she sent the corrections back, it was with a note saying it was absolutely her thing, and she had trouble concentrating because of it.

I’m glad it wasn’t too weird, I’m never sure with kinks like that. There are so many ways to play them, and I often go one way when people expect the other. A blindfold is a simple thing, but it’s what goes on behind it that makes it interesting.

It’s like anything else; it can be whatever you want. It can be sweet and tender, or mean and dirty. I just happen to like the second.

Me too, I said as the server returned with the oysters.

Our conversation moved on to friends we had in common, our favorite foods––oysters were high on both our lists––bars we liked, our recent breakups, and only occasionally back to kink for brief and mostly silly and comic moments. But our dinner was delicious, we laughed loudly and often, and by the time dessert came, both of us were more eager to move onto something else than we were to continue stuffing ourselves.

As we stood outside, our stomachs full, and our minds only a tiny bit fuzzy from the drinks, I thought very quickly about what was next. I could certainly say I had a wonderful time, and I’d like to see her again. And it would be true.

It would also end the night.

I love a lot of things about this place, I finally said, but one of my favorites is that my apartment is right around the corner.

Are you inviting me up?

Only if you’re up for it. I did buy a blindfold especially for you, but no pressure or anything.

Now you’re just teasing me, she said, stepping closer. I looked down and realized that her eyes were the color of a calm blue-green sea, her hair was tinged with hints of red, and her lips were very close to mine. When I put a hand on her shoulder, she leaned in, and when I touched her cheek, she closed her eyes.

Our first kiss was neither as long or as tender as it might have been. But it was hungry, and it was joyful. Kitty’s lips were soft, her kiss warm, and her teeth sharp. In those five seconds, I felt drawn to her in a million ways at once, and it was all I could do to resist pushing her against the wall. It was the sort of kiss that breaks the mind and leaves the rest up to the body.

I think you better take me to your apartment.

It feels necessary, I agreed.

Very necessary.

I took her by the hand, and together we nearly ran down the alley, turned left at the corner, and then waited impatiently as I fumbled with my key before we sprinted

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