Group
Multiple partners, shared experiences, adventurous dynamics
6 stories
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The Loft on Whitaker
I was supposed to be checking the histogram but all I could see was the way the sweat pooled in that little dip above her tailbone.
Julian's Flask
The train rhythm was a pulse in my marrow, a low-frequency hum that made my thighs ache before anyone had even touched them.
Surcharge
The ice in Ben’s glass had melted into a single, jagged shard by the time Elias finally put his hand on my knee.
We Really Can't Show Our Faces There Again
The air in the gallery was that specific brand of recycled desert heat, the kind that smells like expensive ozone and desperate ambition.
Put Your Keys in the Bowl
Caleb tasted like expensive rye and ten years of things we didn't have the guts to say while Elena watched us with that hungry, terrifying smile.
The 12th Floor Ice Machine Alcove
Desire in a mid-range Marriott has a specific, synthetic frequency, like the hum of a mini-fridge struggling against a humid July night.