Desire

Passages

Every passage tagged with this emotion in the Vela corpus. Search the body text, narrow by source or register, click through to a book’s profile to see how the passage sits with the rest of the work.

Page 28 of 344 · 20 per page

• From House of Holes: A Book of Raunch (2011)

  Ross slapped hands with Bono. Marcela felt Lanasha’s strong practiced hands pulling her asscheeks open, and then she felt a middle finger twiddle purposefully in her ass. And then, finally, Bono’s length of badness stuffed her gasping twat full of warm, brown dick muscle. Bono had more control. He said little, but he developed an oval rhythm, angling and slamming his smooth musclemeat in and out. He slammed fourteen strokes, and then he said, “It’s gonna pop soon!” “Wait, stop, not quite yet,” she said, freezing. “I want to frig myself off while you’re still hard in me.” “Okay, but if you move the tiniest bit I’ll come for sure.” Marcela held three fingers together and circled and swizzled over her clit hood, while Lanasha’s finger darted and dithered in her ass. As she began to come, her cunt muscles tried to close around Bono’s motionless blood-pulsing truncheon. “Now!” she said. Bono pulled out almost to the helmet and slide-slammed back into her slippery salope, then out, then back in, and once more, and then five hard short strokes. “UHLLLLLLLL!” he said, followed by lots of snuffling. She felt a cold spray of sweat droplets on her back, and, inside, she again felt the long warm twitch of liberated jizm. “Oh, that’s it, fill me up with all that goodness.” She lay panting on the massage table. Lanasha rubbed the backs of her legs with a cool washcloth. [image "decoration" file=image_rsrc2SW.jpg] Shandee Wears the Sponge Gloves [image "decoration" file=image_rsrc2SX.jpg] Shandee left Dave’s arm to sleep late in the hotel room. She met Zilka for melon and a croissant at the terrace restaurant overlooking the Garden of the Wholesome Delightful Fuckers. Zilka was wearing a striped shirt with the collar up. Her hair was amazing. Shandee wanted to know more about how she had lost her clit, but she didn’t want to ask her about it right away, so instead she asked how Zilka spent her days. Zilka said she helped Lila, and after work she went out to the Trou or hung out at the Darkrooms. “The Darkrooms are good because you can just talk to a guy,” Zilka said. “Before I lost my clit I would have been dancing or sleeping with somebody—not now.” “So—how did it happen?” Shandee asked. “When I was a stripper, I headlined at the Wiggle Room in San Antonio for almost a year, and I flew all over the Midwest. I was going through security, and this awful woman with bad hair stole my clit from me.” “That’s terrible,” said Shandee. “Yeah, it kind of is.” Zilka was sad and silent for a moment, and then she pointed. “You see that cable over there? That’s a ride called Fuck the Lake. Over there’s the midway, where you can do Spank the Pretty Ass, or Hold the Young Hung Hard-on. The Masturboats are over on the river. They’re moored right now.” “Zilka, can you tell me how it happened?” said Shandee.

• From House of Holes: A Book of Raunch (2011)

  She was lying back on the chaise longue now with her hands in the air. “Then I feel his hands grab my hips, and his woody finds me on its own, and I’m so darn wet and puffy that he can just stab it in one long stroke, right there, that long bone, mmmf.” Floomp, floomp went Cardell’s hand in his bathing suit. She opened her eyes and looked over at him. “You like listening to me tell you about how my husband fucks me?” Flump flump flump, said Cardell’s hand. He was smiling a wanker’s smile. “You love to tug that dirty dick and listen to me chatter, don’t you?” “Yes, I do, and tell me, do you prefer when he’s slow and smooth or hard and pounding?” “I like it when he’s been going along slow and then with no warning he just barrels into me at double speed, bam bam bam bam! And I say, ‘Fuck me, moneyman, bang me hard, yeah, hard, yeah!’ He likes when I call him moneyman.” Her arm was up to the wrist in her shorts now. “But he could be anybody, then. In fact, he is anybody. He’s not my husband anymore, he’s a big bad stranger on a string connected to twelve guys I’ve seen, some on TV, some in real life. They’re cycling around, having at me one by one.” At this Cardell stood wildly and pulled all of his dick out. “Does his dick look like this? Hmmm?” he asked. “Sorry, I can’t help it,” he added. She stared at him and blinked. “No, yours is very different—very different in shape and tint and everything—although about the same size. People care so much about size, but size is just the beginning. It’s like comparing flavors of apples.” Cardell was slowly working it, leering. She stared a moment longer and then roused herself. “Put it back now. I’m trying to stay within bounds. Back in the bathing suit, back, back, back, that’s right. Do whatever you have to do in the suit.” Cardell started floomp-floomping again, punching from within the bathing suit to make room for his rogue jacquard. He said, “Tell me about the hardest time you ever came.” She reflected, lightly touching the potted boxwood that was next to her. “In general I come hardest when I put a something in my ass. My husband is away a lot, and I read one of my erotic romance books about bad assfucking vampires, and I start to get a little wild, and I put a screwdriver in a latex glove and put the handle in my ass.” Cardell was silent, surprised, pondering. Then he said, “It would be nice if you could do that for me.” “What, now? Put a screwdriver handle in my ass now? No, I haven’t showered. I’d have to shower. I have a whole procedure. Also I’ll have to call my husband and ask him if it’s okay.”

• From House of Holes: A Book of Raunch (2011)

  “No, it was intentional. I wanted a really big penis, and Lila said that I had a choice. I could either lose twenty percent of my intelligence or lose my right arm. And it’s all totally reversible. I really wanted a bigger penis, a monster cock, I was tired of looking at my own. I’m not quite sure why. I guess all the Internet spam finally took its toll. And I said, Hell, Lila, take the right arm. So I had what’s known as a crotchal transfer.” “Who with?” “With this guy, he’s an Australian wilderness photographer. He uses a giant eight-by-ten wooden camera. Glenn is his name. He has my penis and balls, and I have his penis and balls. Meanwhile my amputated arm is out wandering around somewhere, having its own adventures.” “That’s nuts,” said Chilli. “How does the photographer feel about the swap?” “Glenn’s okay with it, surprisingly. I mean, my penis was fine, it was adequate, just not huge. Lila gave him two months free at the Hotel du Trou, and he takes boudoir pictures of women and indulges every whim. He’s a good nature photographer, actually, and a nice guy. Are you sure you don’t want to pay a visit?” She looked indecisive for a moment, and then not. “I’ve got the dog, and I’ll have to pick the kids up in an hour anyway. Thanks, though.” “What about tomorrow?” asked Dave. “I could meet you right here at, say, eleven. We could get some lunch, and maybe I could show you the Porndecahedron. I know you’re married and all—you can set limits. We could just walk around. There’s lots to see, believe me. Besides, you drive me crazy.” She looked at the clouds, which were doing something particularly puffy. “This is so wrong,” she said. “But okay, I’ll see you tomorrow at eleven.” “Good—and one more thing: If you go home now and get horny with yourself?” “Yes?” “Here’s something to consider. It might be that at a certain point you think, Wow, I’m making these great expressions, and I’m making all these interesting noises, and I’m moving all around in this sexy way that’s sexier than I’ve ever been—and nobody’s seeing me play with myself. Well, in that case, just set up your webcam or your video camera, whatever you’ve got handy, and film it for me.” Chilli looked not at all sure. “I don’t know if I can.” “You know you want to. And I’d love to see your eyes go all glassy, and I’d love to see that ferny thrusty feeling growing right down past your knees. I’d love to see your whole gaping snatch hole just munching on that orgasm, just chewing on that big sweet piece of half-melted pleasure that’s hidden inside you until it’s swallowed up by its own dissolution. Okay? If you play tonight, will you film it for me?” “I’ve got to go pick up my kids now,” she said. She was breathing, not moving.

• From House of Holes: A Book of Raunch (2011)

  Luna walked toward Lila and arched her back and leaned forward. Lila thumb-tweaked both of Luna’s nipples at the same time, which made Luna shiver. “As hard as little erasers,” Lila said, “erasing all inhibitions.” “Lila,” said Luna, “I want to be fucked so many ways right now I don’t know where to start. I’m beside myself. In the shower I thought, I want to be fucked by a tree!” “Well, now,” Lila mused, “we do have Jason’s Woods. That’s where we get the hardwood for our salad bowls and our Dendro line of peckerwood dildos. Have you tried a Dendro dildo?” “Can’t say I have.” “Then you’re in for a treat. Anyway, what I’ve been told is that some of the older pearwood trees have had their branches cut so often that they’ve developed semihuman traits, and now they are known to exhibit sexual desires of their own. There’s a man in there, Jason, who makes the bowls. He’ll know the grove of pearwoods I mean. Daggett can buzz you over there in a cart.” She pressed a button. “Daggett, we need you, hon.” “Thank you, Lila,” said Luna. “Your pleasure is my pleasure. Where is Daggett? He’s a little slower because he misses his cods. Oh, I should say: You’re going to have to let Jason hold your breasts, I think. He can’t make bowls without inspiration.” “I can live with that.” Daggett drove Luna in silence down a long curving path, past the lake. The wildflowers gave way to lilac and forsythia, and then there was a salt marsh, and then suddenly they were winding through deep silent woods, with mica chips of sunlight sparkling through the leaves. Finally they came to a clearing and a small well-kept shingled house, painted green. “I’ll leave you to it,” said Daggett with a wink. “Just give Lila a call when you want me to pick you up.” Luna knocked. A tall scruffy man in a leather apron came to the door. His hands were black with stain. His eyes had a crinkly honest look. “I heard you were on your way out here,” he said. “Did Lila tell you I make bowls?” “Yes, and she said I’d probably have to let you fondle my breasts, and I just want you to know I’m okay with that.” “Good. Well then, let’s do that first, shall we? You’ll have to help me clamp my hands. Can I get you some green tea before we get down to it? Or some home brew?” “Home brew would be good, thanks.” “Okay, well, why don’t you scoot your pants a little ways down for me.” “My pants?” “I think, yes. I need to experience curving shapes to make my bowls. What lovely hips.” He cupped her cameltoe for a moment. “Do you like to eat salad? I do.” Luna nodded, stepping out of her pants. “Turn around, please, so I can have a look at your—” “Panties, or no?” She turned.

• From House of Holes: A Book of Raunch (2011)

  “I can get used to anything,” said Kathy. “They’re nice men.” She paused just before she closed the door. “I can tell from the way he’s humping the bed that he’s got a big hard-on,” she said. “Turn him on his side, and you’ll have a nice present.” She closed the door. Reese sat next to Nedbody for a moment, looking at the smooth muscular expanse of his back. His arms were flung wide. She smelled his underarms, which though Kathy had washed him had a whiff of man scent. She pulled on the hair, and he shrugged. Then she couldn’t stand it—she had to bring out one of her trusty erotic romances. It was Tastefully Done, one from the Untamed Wanderer series. She read Nedbody a passage as he slept, gently caressing his perfect bottom as she did and feeling his muscles involuntarily tighten as he dry humped the bed. “Shadow’s thighs registered the heat of his haughty stare,” she read. “He seized her roughly and lifted the burning torch of her sex to his mouth. ‘Shadow, I have craved your salt taste for three long years,’ he said, his lips red as embers in the deepening dusk.” “Whoo!” she said. “That’s the stuff! Nedbody, baby, do you mind if I kind of help you turn over?” He didn’t seem to mind, and she eased her fingers under one of the thick muscles of his upper thigh and pulled gently, feeling like a camel driver. He drew his arms in and turned, and she had her first glance at his cock, which lay like a railroad tie hanging out from his body. It moved with his heartbeat. She watched it for a moment, wondering at its independent spirit. “It looks like you have something major going on there, Nedbody,” she said. She found that she couldn’t help herself, and she curled her fingers around the fullness of what remained of his intelligence. “Think with your dick,” she whispered, moving her mouth closer. She pulled one knee up and pushed the other away, and he lay sprawled, jutting upward like some travesty of a Michelangelo sculpture, and from him came the dusty, meaty scent of his balls, which she breathed in for a long time and allowed to swirl around in her brain. For she did have a brain as he, poor Nedbody, did not. “You poor brainless man,” she said. “I’m going to suck your dick, and you won’t even know it. Mmmmmmm.” She encircled the base of his cock and brought it up so that it grazed her lips, and she found that when she did his hips made a little judder, a kind of minithrust, which was precious to her because it was a bit of communication. “That’s it,” she said, “use those hips, baby.” Then she closed her fist on his cock and slid her hand all the way down again until the skin pulled tight on the pistil head of his manjig.

• From House of Holes: A Book of Raunch (2011)

  She began moving her hand slowly, then faster. “Ooh boy, I want this dick inside me,” she said, “I want to be fucked by this dick, I can’t help it, it’s so perfect. It’s literally THE perfect dick for me.” She gave it a number of good quick pulls and then she noticed that Ruzty was quivering and trembling. Suddenly he said “Ohhhhhhrrrrr” in his beautiful accent, and several white glops spouted from the end. Immediately there was a buzzer and a ringing. “Uh-oh,” said Shandee. She blew Ruzty a kiss. “Bye-bye,” said Ruzty. An assistant named Krock appeared and led Shandee away. “Why in heaven’s name did you wank him off?” Krock asked. “I didn’t mean to. He begged me, and I obliged him.” “Did you take off your sponge gloves?” Shandee nodded. “We had a rapport. I’m sorry.” Krock reassured her. “I think it’ll be okay. Lila will give you your reassignment tomorrow.” “Is there any chance that I’ll be able to see him again?” “You never know,” said Krock. He gave her a sly look. “I’ll put in a good word for you.” “Thanks.” Shandee shook her head wistfully. “I really wanted that cock of his so bad. God, I still do. I can’t stop thinking about it. I had to hold it. I’d give that cock everything.” “I wish people said that about my cock,” said Krock, as they reached the lobby of Shandee’s hotel. “I’m sure it’s nice,” said Shandee. “Do you want to see it?” “Um—” Shandee checked the wall clock. “No, thanks. Dave’s arm is going to be needing his meal.” [image "decoration" file=image_rsrc2SW.jpg] Rhumpa Unbuttons Her Shirt [image "decoration" file=image_rsrc2SX.jpg] Rhumpa was her name, and, yes, she paid a visit to the House of Holes. The people she was staying with in New Haven were wealthy and under-read. Although they were middle-aged, their minds were very young and she couldn’t take them seriously. She saw a pepper grinder in the middle of the table, and while they talked about the price of tires she unscrewed the little knob on the top, and when it came off she lifted the wooden part off the central spindly thing and looked inside, where she could see in the shadows of peppercorns. She thought, The peppercorns are waiting to be ground up. They’re still round, like little dry planets, but not for long. Rhumpa held the machine to her nose and smelled the distant sharpness of the pepper, which made her smile. And then the pepper grinder got bigger and she jumped down into it and fell through tumbling peppercorns, and she smelled a hundred dinner parties of the past.

• From House of Holes: A Book of Raunch (2011)

  “I personally think all fetishes are just a waste of time. All you need for good porn is a pretty smiley woman who’s having fun, and a dude with a hard dick who isn’t fat.” “And you watch this on your own?” “You can, or sitting next to somebody you’ve not met, or hardly met, or somebody you know well. It’s like a planetarium, except instead of planets and stars there are nipples, or cocks, or gorgeous faces, or flowers opening, or sped-up clouds, or whatever, you get to pick, and you’re surrounded.” Chilli took these varied images in. “And you decided to spend eight hours watching movies of women making themselves come?” “I love homemade come movies. But not pussy close-ups. You have to see the woman’s face when she comes, pussy and face together, or it doesn’t work. I thought about watching some more movies when I got back from your beautiful field yesterday, but my mood was totally different because of talking to you. Also Lila’s got me on a deprivation schedule, which means I can’t masturbate myself as often as I’d like.” “How sad for you.” “Yeah, so for instance right now my cock is dealing with a massive porn overdose. It’s so full of home jizm brew it hurts.” “By ‘your cock,’ of course you mean the cock you got from the Australian photographer guy.” “I think of it as mine, but, yes, it’s his cock I’ve been edging with. Do you edge?” “I don’t know, frankly, do I?” Chilli said. “Edging’s when you do yourself till you almost come and then stop. You keep right on the edge of the tipping point. Go, stop, go, stop. Do you do that?” Chilli gave this some thought. Dave heard her crossing her legs in the dark. “If my husband’s away,” she said, “I’ll drop the kids off with my mom, and I’ll do a shop, and then back home, yeah, I have so many crazy thoughts in my head that it sometimes takes a while to get through them.” “Nice way to spend a Saturday afternoon, edging,” said Dave. “Close, then away, then close, then away, till it really burns, and then finally, whammo bing-bangy ba-doom! Then, blip. Snerp.” “Um, I don’t know how to ask you this, but—” “Yeah?” “Do you think I could feel this unusually large cock of yours that you had grafted on? Just for a second. I don’t want to do anything with it, I just want to touch it for a second.” “Yeah, sure,” said Dave. “It’s not a graft, though. Let me clarify that. It’s an interplasmic dual crotchal transfer. Very different process. I can explain if you want.” “No, that’s okay. Let me just grope a little closer to you. Woops, where are you?” “I’m here. My pants are down now.”

• From House of Holes: A Book of Raunch (2011)

  She gently put his knee down and washed his stomach. She washed his legs. She didn’t touch his cock, although it was the most beautiful cock she’d ever seen. It lay there. “This is pleasant,” he said. “I’m lying here while a woman scrubs me.” She scrubbed his calves and thighs. “Uh, would you mind also washing my private places?” he said. “Oh, I’d like to, but I’m afraid I can’t,” said Shandee. He looked at her with eyebrows raised. “If I start washing your private places,” Shandee explained, “I’ll get carried away and want to jerk you and watch you come, and you heard what Lila said—we’re not allowed to.” He made a whimpering sound. “Just look at my cock. Look at how bad it needs you. Is it really true that you don’t mind that it curves?” “Believe me, I don’t mind,” Shandee said. “Your cock is a revelation. Some have a hammer, and some have a sickle.” With this she pressed the spray pedal and drenched Ruzty’s body with warm soapy water. The cock still stood, hunched over, proud and pale and purple tipped. She sponged his forehead gently. “You poor thing,” she said. She hit the spray pedal again and drenched his balls with warm unsoapy water, watching them metamorphose. His mouth was open so she kissed it, and then she looked down at his cock again. She simply couldn’t stop staring at it. “Just hold it for one second, will you, please?” he said. “I’m quite desperate.” “Oh, okay,” she said. She held his cock in her orange sponge mittens. In a flash he grabbed a sprayer and sprayed her shirt. “You!” she said. She looked down. The dark buttons of her nipples were visible through the white fabric. “Watch what your nipples do to me,” he said, and he tightened his cock muscles so that his scythe squirmed and nodded like some strange plant. “Whooo!” said Shandee. “Take off the mittens and hold it, please, please!” “I’m going to get in trouble, but okay.” She pulled off her sponge mittens and held her hands under the soapy water till they were slippery. Then she took hold of Ruzty’s cock, which was as hard as a summer squash. She splayed her fingers and moved them over his balls and then over his stomach. She could see his thigh muscles tighten. His cock was straining, and she had to stroke it. She took it in her hand and felt its thickness and its sense of certainty. It was like the Arch of St. Louis. It had one thing to say to the world: “I am a stiff swervie.” She slid her hand up to the tip—it was like sliding over a steering wheel—and slid it down again, enjoying the sheen of the soapy water on his cockknob. “This is a big, beautiful dick you’ve got, Ruzty,” she whispered. “Thank you,” he said. “You’re nice to say it.”

• From House of Holes: A Book of Raunch (2011)

  “Try picturing something dirty, really dirty,” Mindy advised. “I mean dogfuck dirty. This is an emergency. What’s the dirtiest thing you ever did?” “Uh, I’m not that dirty. Once I came into this girl’s guitar.” “Into the hole? Did she know?” “No. I felt bad about it, but it sounded fine afterward, thank goodness. I like to think that my dried come was vibrating to her songs.” Mindy waited. “Is that memory helping you want to come?” “No.” “Well, then, think some more about my sexy hips stuck inside your cock.” “Mm, mm, better.” “Think about me kissing the head of your dick like this—mwah!—and slapping at your cockhead hard, like this!” Mindy slapped. “And splashing your precum foam all over the place!” This excited Dennis. “Oh, kiss my cockhead!” he said. “Oh, you’re so fucking tiny. I wish you could free up your breasts.” “You’re getting slippery enough now I think I can.” She shook out her hair and then with some effort she scooped a tit out of the well of his cockhole. “There’s one. And here’s the other. Do you like?” Dennis had a new, lower note in his voice. “Ooh, shit, tease the nipples for me, tease them, I’m real hard now. You’re like a pretty mermaid coming out of my volcano.” He started working long, steady dickstrokes, sliding the skin so it bunched up and then went smooth. He extended his tongue, and Mindy reached up for it but couldn’t catch hold of it. “Jack me out right into your hand,” Mindy said. “Pump your lovely Lincoln Stiffins. Jack me!” Dennis made a mooing sound, standing up, with his feet planted apart like an action figure. “You want to feel this come push you right out? You want a come ride? You want a flume ride of my burning jizz? Huh? I’ve never jerked a beautiful woman out of my hot dick before. I want to see your big sexy hips blow out of my cock.” “Oh, this is getting good,” said Mindy. “Hold on just a second, I want to catch up. I want to come with you.” She bit her lip again and frowned, her breasts shaking as she urgently frigged her tooter. She hummed a few notes of a wordless Estonian song, then she said, “I’m almost there, Dennis, I’m going to come, I’m going to come. Ohh, make me shoot out of you, shoot me out, SQUIRT ME! AAAAH!” Dennis grabbed his balls and made five smooth cock-pumpings, and then he felt the pulse of his come bulbing below Mindy’s legs. It pushed her out of his screaming penis on a blast of jizz force. She fell slickly into his hand and lay panting in the puddle of his cumshot. “Whew!” said Dennis. “That was a man-jack adventure,” said Mindy, shaking come off her arms. “I think if you rub me gently on my stomach I’ll grow back to the right size.”

• From House of Holes: A Book of Raunch (2011)

  “Well then,” he said, “there’s only one way to make the right selection.” Daggett drew from the bag a large piece of patterned silk. “This is the Silken Flesh Communicator,” he said. “If you allow me to place this over your naked breasts, it will help me determine which of these bras is ideal for you.” Gently holding Rhumpa’s shoulders, he had her stand facing away from him. “Open your robe,” he said. “Wait! Good. I just had to check that I couldn’t see you in any mirror. Now open your robe. Let it fall open.” Rhumpa did as he asked. “Thank you. Now I am going to gently unfurl the Silken Flesh Communicator and draw it back against your breasts so that it surrounds them and cools them and makes them feel exactly the way your breasts most want to feel. Are your breasts ready for the silken touch of the communicator?” Rhumpa looked down at them. She smoothed her hand over them and jostled them a few times. The nipples had tightened and were pointing off, as they did. “Yes, they seem to be quite ready,” she said. “Unusually jiggly today, in fact.” Daggett made a small whimper and gently flung the piece of transparent silk over her head so that it fell in a U in front of her. Very slowly he pulled it back, so that the folds opened. She watched her breasts fill them. He held the ends of the fabric with a light touch, not drawing it too tight. He paused. “There,” he said. “I can feel them resisting my pull.” “Mm,” she said. The pattern on the silk was of peonies and birds of paradise. As he pulled, she felt the silk coming alive against her skin. It was clearly not just an ordinary fabric; it had an intelligence. “I can sense the nervous vibration in your hands,” she said. “Yes, sorry,” Daggett said. “Now we wait just a bit, and the silk will conform itself exactly to your shape, and it will understand your weight. But you must walk with me for a moment for it to work.” Rhumpa walked slowly around the room, and Daggett followed behind her. She could feel her breasts bouncing a little in their sheer halter, and she knew that the fabric was recording how they moved. Suddenly she felt a surge of warmth that began deep in her breasts and burned upward till it reached the tips of her nipples and was gone. “That’s it!” said Daggett. “Your breasts have communicated.” He withdrew the silk and Rhumpa hiked her robe back on and tied the sash. Daggett dangled the fabric over the bras that he’d arranged on the bed and waited. Nothing happened. Then all at once there was a twitching, a tugging, a movement similar to that of a dowsing rod. “It’s working,” he said. “Watch.”

• From House of Holes: A Book of Raunch (2011)

  Pendle closed his eyes and visualized his dream of desire. He didn’t need twenty-four horny women, he realized, only eight. He wanted some of them to have merry little breasts, and some huge soft heavy sad hangers, and he wanted some of them to be fairly old and some of them to be fairly young, and some to have throaty brunette voices and some wispy chirpy blond voices. He wanted them all to be on their knees on couches and chairs with their asses up and ready and their slippy sloppy fuckfountains on display. He’d walk in front of them holding his generous kindly forgiving dick, saying, “Do you want this ham steak of a Dr. Dick that’s so stuffed with spunk that I’m ready to blow this swollen sackload all over you?” And they’d all say, “Yes, Mr. Fuckwizard, we want that fully spunkloaded meatloaf of a ham steak of a dick.” Pendle explained all this to Lila as well as he could. “They’d be supercharged and overdosed with horniness,” he said, “be-cause for eight days beforehand each one of them would have been imagining that eight guys were in front of her staring at her and pumping off their meatsticks, and each guy who’s pumping his meatstick would have been imagining for eight days that he was in a room with eight lovely ultrahorny women, and those women would be imagining that they’re in a room with eight ultrahorny meatsticks, and so on.” “Gee whiz.” Lila reached for a calculator. “So far your dream involves slightly more than four thousand people,” she said. “If it does, it does,” Pendle replied. “Actually my dream involves every woman in the world.” “Ah, does it?” “Yes. I want every woman in the world to see my dick. I want you to see it, for instance.” “Not right now,” said Lila. “You could make a movie of me holding my dick and then project it on the moon. I’d like that.” “That’s not really our style,” said Lila, “but I like your ambition. Tell you what. Daggett! Daggett will give you a twenty-minute tour now, so you have a sense of what you’re in for, and then why don’t you go away and earn, say, thirty-five hundred dollars somehow, and come on back and we’ll give you a work-study position here. That’s a steep discount. How does that sound?” “Good.” Daggett gave Pendle a brief tour of the House of Holes, and then Pendle went back to where he lived. He spent three weeks earning money at a landscaping company, spreading black mulch and digging holes and spreading sod. A woman came by in a van sometimes with flats full of purple flowers. She spent all morning planting the purple flowers, and then she washed the dirt off her hands and rested. Her name was Loxie. “Why are you working here?” Loxie asked Pendle one day. “You look like your mind’s somewhere else.”

• From House of Holes: A Book of Raunch (2011)

  “Oh my god, your balls are like sheep balls. Wow.” She breathed in with a sipping sound, fondling Dave’s cock. He moved his hips a little so that it poked and shuttled through her loose fingers. “It’s been so so long,” she said. “Your fingers feel good. So long since what?” “Since I’ve held a really nice big cock. I went out with a boy in college for about a month. He was big. Not this big, though. Uh. It’s so heavy. I’m going to stop now though. Self-control. I have something for you.” “Your mouth?” “No, here.” She handed Dave a flash drive. “This is the movie I made of myself last night.” “Great, we’ll pop into the Porndecahedron and watch it. I’m signed up for a block of time.” Dave readjusted his clothes, and they walked out into the sunlight squinting and shading their eyes and smiling at each other. “I’m so horny I can barely walk,” Chilli said, giggling. “Where is this filthy Frigahedron?” “Right through here,” said Dave. At the upload station he keyed in his password and loaded Chilli’s movie into his playlist. “I warn you, this is pretty immersive. It may just be too much for you. All I’ve got on this playlist is women making themselves come. Plus a few titty cumshots to spice the mix. I love those.” “That’s okay. I’ll be a part of it. I want to see what you do when you watch me.” Dave got them a pack of Red Vines and opened a door, and they walked into the staging area and sat together in a tandem chair. Once Chilli had gotten herself buckled in, they were lifted up into the center of the Porndecahedron. Dave tapped a button on his handrest and they started watching. There were movies above them and below them and on all sides, and all the soundtracks merged and mingled and were confusingly present, although some people muted all but one of them or overlaid a music track. “So this is it, huh?” she said. “She looks like she’s enjoying it. Oh my goodness, that’s a lot of sperm. Don’t you find this a bit overwhelming?” “Hell, I could probably handle twenty-four screens,” said Dave. He was biting his lips, watching, his eyes ping-ponging around from clip to clip. “I love the way she moves her knees,” he said. “Now that woman looks sexy to me,” Chilli said, pointing off to the left. “Whoa, was that her orgasm? She really came hard.” Then Dave spotted Chilli’s face. It was on one of the screens just above his head and to the right. “There you are!” he said. “Where? Uh-oh. This is incredibly embarassing.”

• From House of Holes: A Book of Raunch (2011)

  “No, it’s not, it’s beautiful. Is that your living room?” On the screen, Chilli was taking off her shirt and undoing her bra and looking at herself in the mirror of her laptop screen. “You are so sexy! Jesus. Mmm. I’m going to have to do some serious edging. I hope you don’t mind.” “You’re going to bring your charley horse out right now?” “Yeah, and I wish you would liberate your clit, too. Just set it free.” “But then I’d be masturbating to a film of myself mas-turbating.” “Exactly, and you’ll enjoy it, too. Don’t miss this opportunity to get serious with your entire cunt. It wants your attention.” “That’s true,” she said. Dave angled out his Malcolm Gladwell. “Ooh, you’ve got it out again,” she said. “Can I hold it for a second, just the head of it? Oof.” He leaned back. “I don’t want to come right yet, though. But, oh gosh, you’re so so pretty up on the twelvemo screen. Look at that, you’re so lusciously nasty with yourself. This is fantastic.” In her movie, Chilli was holding her legs open with her elbows, and she was gripping one hand with the other and stuffing three fingers inside herself. “I am getting down and dirty, aren’t I?” “And your eyes, look at your eyes, look at that fucky sex blur in your eyes.” “This is where I came, I think,” she said. “Yep, that’s how I come.” “You are ridiculously hot, wait, don’t move your hand on my cock, don’t move even a quarter of an inch or I’ll spunk ham juice out everywhere, oh, oh, so close, let it work its way down—Zen, Zen, whooooooooo.” “But I want you to come.” “Not here,” said Dave. “I’ve seen too much porn. I need to escape. I need nature. I want to come in your field with your pussy shoved in my face.” “I can’t do that,” said Chilli. “No? Under the clouds in the sex field?” “Well, okay,” she said. “Briefly.” “Goody, just press stop on your handrest there.” The tandem chair lowered to the staging area, and they walked out. “I’ll get the blanket,” said Dave. “Hurry, because I’m here leaking right down my leg,” said Chilli. She and Dave had a breathless run—it felt like an escape—out of House of Holes territory and on through the briars and the bushes to the sex field. “We can go back close to where you were yesterday,” Chilli said, “but a little ways back. It’s private.” Dave spread out the blanket over what Chilli noticed was an old dry hole in the ground. Probably a mole hole, she thought. Then she thought, Hmmm. She sat splaylegged on the blanket, and Dave brought out his massive, porn-maddened spunk-spewer. “Let me just stare at it,” she said. Very lightly and respectfully she touched it, as if less pressure made for less of a marital infraction. “Can I fuck you right here on this blanket?” asked Dave.

• From House of Holes: A Book of Raunch (2011)

  “Oh, gosh, eight, nine couples. I think our final count was eleven. I said to her, ‘I have never seen this many couples doing it before.’ She said, ‘Me neither, I kind of like it.’ I said, ‘Do you want to go down and be a part of the action?’ And she said, ‘Well—let’s just sit in the glorious sunshine and watch them being wholesome.’ I said, ‘Okay,’ and we watched for about half an hour. We both got very turned on. I was saying things like, ‘Woo, look at them go, look at them just boinking away like the crazy wholesome fuckers they are!’ And eventually we went up to her hotel room and messed around, and it was okay.” “No anal?” “No, should there have been?” “There’s just so much talk about it. Everybody’s supposed to love assfucking, and live for assfucking, and frankly I just don’t.” “No, no anal,” said Pendle. “It was good but I don’t think we’re really soul mates.” “And what after all is a soul mate?” “A soul mate is when you really think someone is great. You really like her a lot. You like when she explains things to you. You love her. That’s a soul mate.” “Oh,” said Trix. “Will you take me to the groanrooms?” They went to a groanroom, and in the darkness of the entry foyer they put on the glowing wrist and ankle bracelets, which were in plastic packets in baskets just outside the door. “Just remember, we can’t talk in here at all, only groan,” said Trix, her hand on the door. “It’s like meditation except it’s more fun.” They went in together and closed the door very quietly. [image "decoration" file=image_rsrc2SW.jpg] Henriette Chooses the Cheekpump [image "decoration" file=image_rsrc2SX.jpg] Since she’d surfed the lake, Henriette had received two invitations to the Masturboats and visited the Hall of the Penises, but she still hadn’t met a man who really attracted her. Lila suggested that she take a walk down the Man Line. Henriette thought that was a good idea. The Man Line was a line of about a hundred single men who stood fully clothed in wedding suits, with numbers pinned to their lapels. She walked down the line, nodding at the men. Then she saw the one. He was smiling, trying to stare straight ahead. He was tall, with wide, even teeth and an easy, careless way of standing. His bow tie dangled. His number was 53. She didn’t say anything to him, but back at the office she told Lila that Number 53 was the one. Lila promptly called up a video of Number 53’s entrance interview. “Do you want to see it?” “Of course,” said Henriette. On the screen, Number 53, slouching in a chair, was asked what type of woman he was interested in. “Honestly?” he said. “Honestly,” said the entrance interviewer, Mischa.

• From House of Holes: A Book of Raunch (2011)

  He did, of course, being a gentleman of an arm, and she admired how curvy and upsticking it was—“a banana cock,” Lila had said of Ruzty. She remembered the sight of Ruzty’s cock getting hard in Lila’s office. “Dave, I want to fuck this green banana so bad,” she said. She pulled her pussy open so that she could see it push in, and Dave’s arm held it steady for her. She felt the unripe fruit drive curvingly deep inside her till she was well and truly socketed. “Dave, please help me come,” she said. “Please fuck the banana in me.” Dave moved it and jiggled it, and she circled her fingers one way and then the other over her crimson clit. She started to come with her legs and her hips, and she smashed herself down on Dave’s banana fist and ground into it and said, “Grrrr,” and watched herself in the mirror humping on the corner of the bed. As her orgasm found its way up her legs, her whole body went clong, clong, clong. “Oh, that’s it, Dave,” she said. But in her mind she was thinking, Ruzty, Ruzty, I love your eyes and face, and I wish you could see me coming. Cardell Has a Sherry Cobbler Cardell worked at the planning office of a small city, planning brick crosswalks and trying to figure out where people could park. It was interesting work, but he wanted to meet a nice, smart, sexy woman, so he went to a lecture on the history of the municipal water supply and sat down on a folding chair next to a woman with mustard-colored stockings. There was a good crowd, but unfortunately the lecturer had a boring singsong voice. Cardell’s assbones hurt from sitting and his mind was aswirl with obscene imagery, cocks being stuffed everywhere, women’s eyes suddenly going wide in surprise. He began to think more and more about the woman next to him. He liked her mustard-colored knees poking out from the hem of her skirt. She had a little notebook and she was drawing a picture of a cocktail glass. Below that, she’d written “He doesn’t know anything” and underlined it twice. When the audience questions began, Cardell leaned toward her and asked her to the roof bar of a nearby hotel. “I noticed your doodle,” he said, in his thrummiest voice. “You naughty man,” she said. She gave him a speedy once-over and made a single nod. They left as unobtrusively as possible. Turned out her name was Jackie.

• From House of Holes: A Book of Raunch (2011)

  Most of the dip and the carrots and celery had been eaten. She took a cracker and cracked it in her hand. “Which are yours?” she asked. He touched her back, directing her to a wall with five paintings. They were all of women sitting on chairs, wearing pants but not wearing anything over their breasts. Some sat relaxedly, some seemed tense. He’d caught something unusual in their expressions, which were sad and human. “I like their faces,” Jessica said. “Thanks, will you excuse me for a moment? My underpants are wet with my come, and I’m just going to take them off and throw them out.” Bosco went into the back and reemerged in a few minutes. Jessica had stood standing, looking at the women. She sensed someone looking at her, and when she turned she saw that he was staring once again. “Do you offer a modeling fee?” she asked, in order to preserve her dignity. “Name it,” he said. “When I modeled for the photographer, he paid me two hundred dollars.” He shook his head. “I’ll sell the painting for eight thousand, of which the gallery will take fifty percent. So I will gross four thousand dollars. Nothing that I paint would exist without your beauty. How about two thousand for you, two thousand for me?” She thought. “That’s generous. But sure, yes.” He nodded. “Good. Now?” She took a moment to reflect. “I’m kind of sweaty from walking,” she said. “Take a shower at my studio,” he said. He said he wouldn’t bother her or make any moves. He just wanted to paint her in her cuffed shorts, he said—but topless. “You know I’ve just had an orgasm so I’m obviously not going to wig out and attack you or something,” he said. Jessica said okay, and then she had a thought. There was a store across the street. “I’m just going to run in there and get some panties,” she said. “I hate getting out of the shower and putting on the same pair. Wait here.” She bought a three-pack of panties, and they walked four blocks over to his studio. He said that he’d been painting for fifteen years. He was a little older than she’d thought at first—maybe thirty-eight, fit and kind of craggy with a confused boyish look that she liked. Every so often as they walked he’d lean toward her and say something like, “This is the best day of my life. I’m so eager to get painting. I understand everything about beauty now, now that I’ve seen you.” His studio was on the third floor. There were ten chairs on one side of the room and a bunch of canvases leaning against the wall.

• From House of Holes: A Book of Raunch (2011)

  They’re cycling around, having at me one by one.” At this Cardell stood wildly and pulled all of his dick out. “Does his dick look like this? Hmmm?” he asked. “Sorry, I can’t help it,” he added. She stared at him and blinked. “No, yours is very different—very different in shape and tint and everything—although about the same size. People care so much about size, but size is just the beginning. It’s like comparing flavors of apples.” Cardell was slowly working it, leering. She stared a moment longer and then roused herself. “Put it back now. I’m trying to stay within bounds. Back in the bathing suit, back, back, back, that’s right. Do whatever you have to do in the suit.” Cardell started floomp-floomping again, punching from within the bathing suit to make room for his rogue jacquard. He said, “Tell me about the hardest time you ever came.” She reflected, lightly touching the potted boxwood that was next to her. “In general I come hardest when I put a something in my ass. My husband is away a lot, and I read one of my erotic romance books about bad assfucking vampires, and I start to get a little wild, and I put a screwdriver in a latex glove and put the handle in my ass.” Cardell was silent, surprised, pondering. Then he said, “It would be nice if you could do that for me.” “What, now? Put a screwdriver handle in my ass now? No, I haven’t showered. I’d have to shower. I have a whole procedure. Also I’ll have to call my husband and ask him if it’s okay.” “You know he’s going to say no.” “It’s worth a try.” She blipped out the phone number again. “Hello, hon, I’m still here with this boy. I know, but he’s a good listener. I know. You’re right, but—I was just telling him about how I read one of my dark urban fantasy books and I play with the screwdriver handle. And he said he wanted me to show him. Yes. In my ass. Yes. It’s Cardell.” She handed him the phone. “Cardell, I thought I told you to leave my condo,” said the husband in an even voice. “I will,” said Cardell, “but you should know that your wife was telling me all about how you take her like a madman at least once a week, if not oftener, and leave her fully satisfied.” “That’s private information!” “True, but she says you’re quite the cocksman.

• From House of Holes: A Book of Raunch (2011)

  I’m beginning to get the gist of them. Now I’ll need you to help me clamp both my hands in these vises.” He placed his hands, palms up, between two battered, smooth wooden vises. “Just turn the cranks.” “How tight?” “Uh, not so tight that my hands are crushed, but tight enough so that they are immobilized. I must be immobilized in order to feel your breasts completely. Sorry my fingers are such a mess. I’ve been staining today.” Luna tightened the screws till she reached a point that seemed right. “Good,” said Jason. “Will you give me another sip of that brew? And help yourself. And if you could stroke my palms with your fingertips for a moment to sensitize them, that would be very kind of you.” She brushed lightly over his palms with her fingertips. His eyes fluttered, and he began breathing through his mouth as if in a trance . “Mmm. And now the big event.” “My breasts?” “Yes. Take them out for me, please. Unfetter them. I want your bosoms naked as jaybirds. Big honking jaybirds.” Jason began to sway from side to side, and he looked at her with a look of heavy, slow-blinking lust. “Are you ready?” “I think so.” Luna took off her sweater and her her blue shirt and then, without breaking her gaze, reached back and flicked open her bra and shrugged it off, holding it momentarily like a baby when it landed loose in her hands. “Let me see. Oh, my, oh, my. Now please lower them, almost to my hands.” She reached forward and held his shoulders and leaned, looking down at the hanging outline of her breasts as they came closer to his immobilized hands. She stopped when she was almost there. “Ah, I can almost feel their warmth. Now very slowly lower. Lower. I want to almost hold them. Just graze the nippletips, graze the nipples, oh, that’s it, that’s good. I feel the aureole energy. Now give them all to me. Give me those glories!” “Nope, wait,” Luna said, and she lifted her chest and shook her breasts for him. “Oh, you freaky teaser!” said Jason. “I can’t wait any longer for it, right now, please.” Strange things were happening under his leather apron. Luna again descended, as gradually as she could, on the verge of filling his hands with her boobflesh. At first it was just her nipples, then a little bit of the tips of the cones, and then her boobosity began settling in, and they reformed themselves, fattening on the side fill as they gave their titfat to his upturned palms . “Ohhhhhh, I can feel you forming the bowls for me, Luna, the fullness, the brimmingness of your breasts, there’s more of you and more of you, you’re so good with your hot boobfat, I can feel the salad bowls in your beautiful knocker-jug-bosom-boobs, that’s what I need.

• From House of Holes: A Book of Raunch (2011)

  “They were about seventeen, but very tiny. We rubbed them and massaged them, and after half an hour they grew to one quarter size, then half size, and then they were full-size long-legged boys, but their eyes were still closed. They were sleeping. So we looked them all over while they gathered strength, and they had the most beautiful penises and thatchy patches. Then their eyes opened, and mine said, ‘It’s a beautiful day,’ and he stretched. I stroked his chest, and I knelt over him and held the sides of his face and looked at his eyes. He was in the tent of my hair, and I could feel his hips trying to find a way in. He was very ready, so I let him in. He became my boyfriend that summer, and then unfortunately he went away. Now I make sculptures of women. I use very smooth hardwood. The women I carve have wide faces, and I always drill deep into their asses. I think the reason why it is so important to drill deep into their asses in my sculpture is because I pooped out the boycone when I was young.” “Maybe, maybe,” said Wade. “I would like to touch you.” “Okay.” Wade felt her fingers move lightly over his arms and chest. They converged and found his cock. Koizumi made a little startled happy sound. “Oh, that is lusty,” she said. “I feel like a lusty lady when I hold your cock. I get a very special feeling in my anus.” “I’m glad you like it,” said Wade. “Would you like to know what my wooden women look like when I carve them?” Wade said he would. “They are posed in the kundalini pose, like this.” Koizumi threw off the covers and put her round bottom high, with her knees together and her wrists crossed at her ankles. A wisp of black hair fell across her face and stuck to her lips. “I believe that the anus is the center of life energy and of consciousness,” she said. “I need to be drilled by a cock now. I hope your cock can be hard enough to fill my ass and anus.” “I hope so, too, for both our sakes,” Wade said. She had something in her hand. “I brought you a pinecone,” she said. “Pull off a seed and chew it. It will make your penis very stiff, and then if you come inside my bowel I will make you a special souvenir.” “Oh, wow,” said Wade. He pulled off a pinecone seed and chewed it. Almost immediately he developed a huge, almost painful hard-on. “Jeez, my cock’s straining at the leash.” “Good,” said Koizumi. She handed him a small vial of liquid. “Now put some of this on your finger and circle it around on my anus.”

• From House of Holes: A Book of Raunch (2011)

  “Well, right now,” Number 53 said, “I’m wanting a woman with a humongous oversized ass—not a fat ass but a big round wobbly huge ass that’s busting out of her pants.” Lila turned off the video and Henriette sighed. “That’s just not me,” she said. “My ass is not humongous and oversized.” “It could be you if you wanted it to be,” said Lila. “How so?” Lila called Mischa in. “The cheekpump,” she said. She held Henriette for a moment. “If you let Mischa work on you with the cheekpump, you’ll get a day with the biggest ass you could possibly want.” “Just one day, and then it goes back to normal?” “Sometimes the ass lasts two days, if the fixative is properly applied. Here is a pair of jeans that will fit you after the procedure.” She handed Henriette a pair of strangely roomy pants. Mischa took her to a small, dimly lit round chamber with a low couch against one wall. He pulled down from the ceiling two enormous clear-plastic suction cups that looked rather like cymbals or dinner plates. “You have to strip down so I can put these on,” he said. She shucked off her pants and scants and knelt on the couch. “Like this?” she said. Mischa was frozen, staring. “My dear, dear friend,” he said. “I don’t know why you want to do anything to that rear end of yours. That is a lovely piece of craftsmanship.” “Thank you,” said Henriette. “But I want it bigger.” “I’m going to have to ask Krock to come in to help position the suction pads. This is too much ass experience for one man. Krock!” There was a slight pause, and then a man emerged, chewing a hastily finished sandwich. He washed his hands at a little sink, winking at Henriette. “What do we got?” Krock said. “One day cheekpump,” said Mischa. “For her?” Krock said. “I don’t think so.” “Eh, she has a thing for a guy who likes a superbig ass.” “In that case,” said Krock sadly, “let’s do it. But first, a moment to look—okay, baby?” Henriette nodded. She sensed them both looking at her exposed wonderloaves and felt a softening and an unfurling in her innernesses. Meanwhile Mischa reached up and pulled down a black hose with a squirt attachment at the end. “This is the flesh-bulging oil,” he said. He misted it lightly over her ass, and she felt strange things begin to happen.