I brought Guy New York's new book Disgusting Beautiful Immoral with me on our camping trip and read most of it with one hand in my panties. I couldn’t put it down, it’s fucking filthy. In fact I didn’t miss tumblr smut at all because this book gave me explicit descriptions of some of my greatest fantasies in gloriously intimate detail.
Guy New York is without question my favourite dirty storyteller, he touches upon the emotional experience of fucking in a way that makes each encounter feel personal. His writing covertly teaches the reader about consent, communication, accountability, ethical poly practices and personal growth through the experiences of his characters. His female lead is neither a prop or a fantasy, she has depth and character and personal agency.
The main couple in the novel explore orgies, sex parties, threesomes the Daddy Dominant/Little dynamic and a laundry list of dirty talking that left me wanting to cum and cry all at once. And the grand finale mirrors one of my greatest fantasies so beautifully it inspired me to consider making it come true…
Often a smut enthusiast like myself must choose between hot fucking and thoughtful content, but this book delivers plenty of both. In fact my husband and I made up a drinking game (while I was reading the book like a fiend by the firelight) where you flip to any page and if there is sex you drink. He almost ran out of whiskey about 5 minutes later so we stopped that game. But if you’re looking for something to fuel your fantasies and get you off I highly recommend this sexy piece of work.
She lay in bed when I walked in, the blankets around her waist and her hair a tangle on the pillow.
“I couldn’t sleep. I kept picturing you with her.”
“I’m home now,” I said, pulling off my tie and hanging my suit up in the closet. It was the most I could offer.
“I don’t like it. You shouldn’t leave me alone. Ever.”
“Should I just stay here in bed with you? For ever and ever?” I climbed naked beneath the covers and wrapped her in my arms. She backed up against me and clenched my fingers in her hand as she pulled me close.
“Yes. For ever and ever. Except when you go make coffee in the morning. Or order food. And maybe shower on occasion. No smelly boys allowed.”
“And what will you do with me all that time?” I asked, my body moving slowly against her. She reached one hand between us and took me firmly in hand, rubbing the head of my cock between her legs. I was barely hard, but she turned just enough to kiss me.
“I’ll make you fuck me. Just like this, with your arms around me as you promise to stay.”
And then I was inside her, and I would have promised anything. She sighed and pushed back against me as we moved slowly in the dark room. I kissed her neck and pulled on her hip bone, needing to be farther inside her than was ever possible.
“I promise,” I whispered, turning her head and kissing her lips once more. “We’ll never leave. We’ll never stop, and we’ll never get out of bed again.”
“And you have to make me come. A lot.”
My hand moved between her legs as she arched her back. Her thighs parted as my fingers found her, even as my other hand moved to her throat. I thrust faster and deeper, pulling her to me in so many ways. Her breath grew ragged and quick, and with each moan she moved closer and closer to the edge.
“When I get to five,” I whispered, letting go of her just long enough for her to catch her breath. “When I get to five you can come for me.”
She bit her lip and clenched around my hand and cock. I whispered the words in her ear, and by the time I reached three she was sobbing as her body shook and trembled. When I finally released her she screamed into the pillow; my privileged ears devoured every sound she made.
“I’ll always be here,” I whispered over and over again. “Always.”
My favourite writer wrote about my favourite kink… excuse me while I masturbate to infinity.
“Is it strange that I call you Daddy when you’re old enough for it to be true?”
She was sitting on my lap in just a t-shirt and I was still dressed from work, my suit only slightly wrinkled from a long day. I had one hand on her thigh and her lips were nuzzled against my ear as she whispered quietly.
“I would have been rather young,” I said, turning her mouth to me with one hand before kissing her. I sucked her tongue between my lips and for a moment I wanted to swallow her whole. She wiggled and squirmed on my lap as she struggled to straddle me.
“But it could still be true. And…”
I pulled her to me, my cock now pressing against her bare cunt through my suit pants. I was painfully hard, and she was so wet I could smell her. I pushed her hair behind one ear before wrapping my fingers around her throat. She looked at me with perfect blue eyes turned down.
“And it just makes me want you more, Daddy.”
It didn’t take long for my zipper to open, her hand to find me, and her cunt to swallow me. It didn’t take long for me to kiss her again, to pull her hips to me until our pelvic bones collided, and then to bite her neck as my fingers squeezed harder.
“It makes me want you too,” I whispered. “As if I needed a reason to want you more.”
And then I let her go so she could gasp into my mouth and kiss me between tears of joy and release. I lifted her up and down, moving her body with ease as we fucked, and we never once stopped staring into each other’s eyes. Her cunt was so tight, and her mouth was unforgiving. She clenched around me and I thrust harder, wanting to fill her over and over again.
“I love you,” she whispered, her orgasm sliding up her body until it slipped out between her lips.
“I love you too,” I moaned, exploding inside her. “I love you too.”
Sensory overload. <3
The problem with equality is how easy it is to sacrifice ecstasy.
The other morning I tried to please her as she tried to please me, and while both of us were pleased, it was far too easy. She wrapped her hands around me as I kissed her neck and searched between her legs. I pulled her on top of me as she rubbed me against her wet skin. We both sighed and moaned, but our breathing was slow and our eyes were open.
And then suddenly she covered my head with her shirt and I paused. She wrapped it tightly around my eyes, and in my moment of wonder everything changed. She pushed my hands to my sides, and for the first time all morning I felt her skin against me. I relaxed my feet, and stopped struggling. I closed my eyes and gave in.
Then it was her hair on my skin. Her fingertips touched my lips and scraped down my neck to my chest. Once I stopped, I could feel the head of my cock rubbing against her, and her teasing was painful and glorious all at the same time. It was a constant struggle to keep still, but the more I gave in the stronger it became.
When she touched my cock I nearly jumped off the bed. She rubbed her thumb over the head, and my hips bucked against my will. My muscles shook, and I could feel her breath. She wrapped one hand around me as the other slowly circled, and she pressed her fist hard against my body, pushing down against my pelvic bone. For a moment I wasn’t sure if it was her tongue touching me, but when her lips closed I screamed out in laughter.
Where did that come from?
I didn’t have time to think as my body trembled. She moved so slowly, that every emotion rose from the base of my spine, through my stomach and chest, until they came out through my lips in sighs, giggles, and tears. Her tongue made me cry, her fingers gasp, and when she pressed me against her chest I was madly in love with everything.
Her speed increased, and she pressed down on my chest with one hand. My heart pushed against it, and the muscles in my legs began to convulse. Her fist began to move up and down my shaft, tightening at the base, and barely touching me at the top. I found my breath was gone, and all I could see was red. I bit my lip as everything pushed down into my thighs, and the tears poured down my face. I clenched my ass, pushed into her hand, and turned my head trying to escape. My fists were clenched so tightly my palms were screaming in pain.
And then suddenly my tears became laughter and everything let go. My legs twitched, my hips bucked, and I came for a hundred years. I arched my back, my chin reaching up towards the sky as everything spilled from my body, and I couldn’t control a thing. I laughed and groaned, and she never once stopped.
Even once my body was drained the spasms shot through me. Even as she held me, whispering her own amazement, my muscles released over and over again until finally I could once again open my eyes.
“You should let me do that more often,” she said as she pulled the shirt from my head and kissed my tears.
“I’m not sure I’d survive it.”
“I don’t know how you could live without.”
I wrapped my arms around her, kissed her face, and thought about absolutely nothing at all.
—Guy New York
I’m just gonna put this here because it reminds me of a few very good memories and I think I might need to read it again later…. while my hands are in my panties. <3
It took her a few minutes to realize I was actually going to tell him everything.
In fact, it wasn’t until I told him that she likes to cry when she sucks my cock because it makes her feel twelve did she get nervous. She looked up at me with a question in her eye, but I patted her on the head and smiled in return.
“She gets embarrassed when I tell people what she likes,” I told him as I opened her mouth with two fingers. “But it’s a vicious cycle because the more embarrassed she becomes the wetter she gets. It’s quite a challenge because if she gets too turned on she forgets to be shy.”
“What else does she like?” he asked as I pushed her mouth down around his cock. She choked for just a minute, but soon she was moving her head and looking up at me begging me not to say more.
“She likes to be fucked up the ass when’s the most bratty, but when she’s quiet I fuck her from behind as I bury her face into a pillow. Sometimes I tell her how much tighter her sister is and she whines and promises to try harder. She wants me to get angry enough to hurt her, but in the end she always needs forgiveness.”
“And how is she feeling now?” he asked as he thrust all the way into her throat, holding her there for a long moment. I finally pulled her off his cock by the hair and tilted her head back.
“How do you feel, babygirl?”
“I’ve been good, you’re just being mean to me,” she whined.
He looked at me with a raised eyebrow. I nodded my head as I threw her onto the bed. She hardly struggled when I positioned her on her knees in front of me, her cunt and ass directly in his line of sight. He moved closer as I held her still, and she refused to look at me.
By the time he was buried inside her ass she was coming around him. I held her chin tightly in one hand as my other moved up and down my cock, but it wasn’t until she began to cry that my own orgasm began. Her tears ran down her cheeks as she try to get me into her mouth, and I brushed her hair from her eyes. Finally I leaned down and kissed the top of her head.
“Good girl,” I whispered as he collapsed on top of her. “Such a good girl.”
Current status: Tea and daydreaming. <3
She was sitting on the bed wearing nothing but a silk tie wrapped around both wrists.
Her hands were behind her back and her chin was up. Her chest was rising and falling with short quick breaths and her lipstick was smudged just enough. I turned the music up so loudly that I couldn’t hear her, and I closed my eyes as I undid my belt. I leaned back just enough as my hand slipped into my pants. And I remembered.
I remembered the first time I slapped her face, and I recalled our first kiss. I remembered her crying as I told her she was almost enough; she came for me so gently I had to press my ear to her lips to hear her moans. I thought about her begging and pleading when I took her ass, and I thought about how pretty her eyes get when she’s lost in need.
My hand moved faster as each memory surged through my body, but it wasn’t until I was close to the edge that I went to her. She laughed with joy as I pulled her head back by her hair, and she opened her mouth in relief.
As I came I remembered the first time she used my name when she told me she loved me.
This made me giggle. My husband was embarrassed when he first started talking to Sunny because he has an aversion to computers and sitting at desks and typing and skyping and all things tech. He sheepishly asked me if Sunny would think he was crazy if he called her instead. On the phone. To talk. I tried to explain how endearing this was, he thought it made him seem old and dated. This quote by Guy New York (who knows quite a bit about being a gentleman) sums up exactly why my husband is my kind of man. (And Sunny’s too… apparently.) -herdirtylittleheart