"Bob, I hate to tell you this, but your new girlfriend? She's an AR-goggle virus."

"Not again!"

(shout-outs to j_shelbourne)

I have recently gotten word that I will be participating in the Circlet authors' reading at VeriCon at Harvard University on Friday the 23 of this month.

I'll be reading from my forthcoming story, The Ontological Engine, or, the Modern Leda. This will be of particular interest to anyone who has enjoyed Victim/Victorian, as Ontological Engine is something of a prequel thereunto. It may also appeal to afficionados of invertebrate-oriented erotica, as it features several flying mutant geoducks in prominent roles.

I'm really excited about this--I love reading aloud, and I've never done a public performance of my own work before. It should be a blast. I'll have the stage for about fifteen minutes, and I expect the other Circlet authors to be almost as awesome as I am.

Admission to VeriCon is $15 for non-students for just Friday, or $35 for the whole weekend.

I will also be doing a similar reading at Back Pages Books in Waltham, MA on Feb 10, but I'll nag you plenty about that when the date draws nearer.

After finishing this, I mulled for moment whether it's too slight & cliche to post, but then I was like "It's your damn blog, Vinnie. It doesn't have to all be world-class--don't be such a tight-ass." So, here's some pornographic dialogue with a cheap gimmick and some careful formatting. Those with strong consent squicks may want to skip this one.

( Negation for Three Voices )

Yacht Club 4 is now live on my site!

This was originally gonna be a croquet-themed story. In fact, the rough draft on my Palm begins with a list of potentially-lewd quotes from the croquet scene in Alice in Wonderland that I was gonna work into the text. But I wrote Vinnie waking up, which became a morning sex scene, and then that became another morning sex scene, and before I knew it I had a story's worth of smut to post. As with all of the Yacht Club series, it ain't exactly Finnegan's Wake, but I do think it manages to have its moments of funny & hot, and some nice little descriptive touches I'm pleased with.

Special thanks go to my awesome editrix & muse, who helped enormously, and is impressively hard to distract when proofreading--I wasn't sure whether to be grateful or insulted. She is invited to step forward and take a bow if she likes. Or hide under her seat if she'd rather not be associated with this thing.
( Teasers! Get yer teasers right here! )

Morning People is part of the Yacht Club series, which also includes Guest of Honor, Unfamiliar Customs, Shopping, and The Most Dangerous Game.

I've been working on another Yacht Club episode in the past week or so. Originally, I thought it was called A Spot of Croquet, but now it appears to be called Morning People, so now I have a substantial backlog of Yacht Club episode ideas. Further. spexappeal has alerted me to a real-world development that cries out for incorporation into that universe.

On the current project, though, I realised the other day that I'd written the second sex scene all wrong. There were too many aspects of the dynamic between the characters and the particular activites engaged in that I wanted to save for the third act of the story. So on Wednesday, I went into a local bar during Happy Hour and rewrote the entire scene over the course of a couple Old Fashioneds. I'm such a narcissist that I can't bear to just drop the old version into dev/null, so I've decided to post it here.

In addition to rough, unprotected sex with the younger sister of the protaganist's girlfriend, the following scene features no proofreading, since it was cut before I even finished the first draft. You've been warned.

( No Redeeming Social Importance )

( Teaser )

Get it at http://vinnietesla.com/yacht3.html . And then let me know what you thought.

I've been working on Yacht Club, Chapter 3. I rather like the opening, so I'm gonna inflict it on you guys. Some of it may, of course change when I finally post

( The Most Dangerous Game )

Write Club is a game they play on the alt.sex.stories.d Usenet group. Two contestants and a judge each pick three words, and then each contestant has three hours to write a story using all nine words. The historical archives make for very entertaining reading. In 2002, I had the privilege of judging Duel #23 between two of my favorite online sex writers--Desdmona and selenajardine.

Today I actually duelled for the first time. My opponent was Antheros; the judge is alexisinalaska. I haven't seen Antheros's story or the verdict yet.

( Lesson One (Mmm/F oral safe) )

( The Words )

( story notes )

The story title meme I did was surprisingly arduous. Producing those silly little summaries didn't come smoothly--it was a lot of work. Still, I had a lot of fun with it, and I'm pleased with the results, which is why I'm directing your attention to them now:

One More Time for the Abattoir with guest star "Humping for Joy by madkingludwig
A Baker's Dozen (I may yet write this one full length)
Why You Should Never Marry the Preacher's Son (my least successful effort, I'm afraid--sorry, Mukei.
The New England Liberal and the Texas Showgirl (Well, I thought the Libertarian joke was funny, even if no one else did...)
Lunch Hour Orgasms (Another one I might have to write. I have a pretty good image of it in my mind, and don't seem to have described it very well)
An Earthling (the tearjerker of the bunch)

And special bonus: You Gotta Spread 'Em by newsfuck.

For the first few blows, she squirmed a bit on my lap, bit her lip, but didn't make a fuss. When she started struggling, I pinned her arms behind her back, held her slender wrists together in one hand, and went back to smacking that luscious squirming bum, now blotched pink, as she whimpered and yelped. I rested my palm on the tender skin every few blows, felt the heat now coming off it. I pressed my hand against one thigh and she obediently spread her legs, exposing glossy brown curls and dark labia.

I ran a fingertip along the crease between her thigh and genitals and she gasped, arching her hips upward for more contact. More smacks, more teasing. She was in a haze of sensation now, waggling her ass obscenely as I spanked and fondled. A finger pressed along her vulva, and found her slippery wet just inside--I rimmend the little opening, not penetrating, and she bounced on my lap. "Lovely little bitch," I whispered to her, "humping my leg." She tossed her head in humiliation and frustration.

I pulled her panties back up, her skirt down. "Stand up."

She got to her feet a little unsteadily; her face was flushed, her eyes bright, blinking rapidly. She crossed her wrists behind her back while I scrutinized her.

"Undress."

There was a moment's pause, then she hastened to comply, tugging her shirt off, unfastening her bra. She unzipped her skirt, stepped out of it. Now she was down to just her panties. Her eyes flickered up to meet mine. I nodded slightly. Green satin slid down her thighs, crumpled to the ground.

I took my time looking at her, enjoying the soft curves of this unfamilar form in my living room. Her eyes were fixed on the ground. "Look at me," I said. She made a sharp little noise when her eyes met mine and felt the lust in my gaze.

I stood, stepped close to her. My fingers touched one cheek and she leaned into the point of contact. They trailed down her neck, her chest, her belly. She spread her legs in anticipation, making room for me.

Once again, my fingers traced the crease of soft skin between her legs, and she shuddered. "You want it?" I asked. "You want my fingers inside you?"

She nodded.

"You have to say it," I whispered. "Tell me what you want."

She opened her mouth, drew breath, but only a moan escaped.

I pressed a little further in, where she was hot and slick, felt her muscles spasm against my teasing fingertips, straining to draw me in.

She took a deep breath. "Everything," she said.

I raised an eyebrow. This wasn't what I'd expected to hear.

"Please. Do me ev--" She paused. "Fuck me every way you can."

"Good girl," I said. "I'll do my best." I pressed my fingers inside her to the knuckle, sealing my mouth against hers to swallow her cry.

She bit her lip, eyeing me thoughtfully. "How can I get you alone?" she said.

I thought for a moment. "You could ask me to help you get more chairs from upstairs."

Upstairs was cool and dimly lit--thrift store lamps, sloping ceilings, unfinished pine furniture. The thumping music downstairs was still clearly audible. "How can I get you to kiss me?" she said.

"Bite your lip again, like you did downstairs," I said

Her breath was hot and tasted like rum. Her lips were soft and yielding, her tongue pointed and aggressive. "How can I get you to spank me?" she said.

"Bend over the back of that sofa," I said.

Her ass was compact and firm. Her jeans were sturdy, but I managed to raise some yelps with my palm. She looked at me over her shoulder, tossing her hair back. "How can I get in your pants?" she said.

"You may have to get out of yours first," I said. "Or else I don't think you'd fit."

Her skin was hot, marked with red creases from elastic and underwire, electric. She shuddered when I ran my hands over it. She ran her fingertips over my rigid cock, squeezed, ripples of pleasure ran up my spine. "How can I--"

"Condom," I gasped. She opened her other hand, grinned.

She groaned when I entered her, sank her teeth into my shoulder. She set a brisk pace with her hips, urged me on with lewd whispers, gripped me inside her with fierce strength.

"How can I see you again?" she said.

"Free tomorrow?" I said.

I'd hoped to be the first guest, but Jim and another guy were already
there when Kate let me in. She was practically vibrating with nervous
energy, eyes darting about, voice high and a little giggly. We stood
making conversation in the living room, beside the open sofabed. The
guys were playing it cool; I had no interest in waiting. I answered a
couple polite questions about my drive over, then walked over to
Kate. She began, "Can I get you anything to drink, Vi--"
    I took another step, into her personal space. I could feel the waves
of delicious fear coming off her like heat from an open oven. I
gripped her hair, tugged it back roughly so her neck arched. Her mouth
fell open. I nipped at her plump lips, teasing her, before kissing her
hard, our bodies pressed tight together.
    Now came the tricky part--if I took too long with Kate now, it might
seem like I was trying to monopolize her. If I passed her off to them
too directly they'd read it as me trying to be alpha male, and push
back. I broke the kiss and stepped back, gratified by her little
whimper. I asked Jim about his work. As Jim started to answer, the
other guy took my hint and stepped forward.

Welcome back sex fans, on this beautiful fall day, where the opening
ceremonies of Mary's masturbation session are just drawing to a
close. She's put aside her pornographic novel, gotten up from her
desk, and now she's approaching the couch.

She's leaning back on the sofa...her fingers are at the waistband of
her jeans...and there's the opening stroke! Her hand is inside her
pants, and it's a beautiful sight! Those jeans are a bit of a snug fit, and
she's squirming away, trying to get her hand to where it'll
do the most good!

She's opening her pants now, pushing them off her hips...she's
undressing...but wait! They're tangled around her ankles! She's
kicking now, she's kicking...and...they're off! Her pants are off,
ladies and gentlemen!

Now she's stroking her panties with just the tips of her fingers...her
head is to her side, she's gnawing on her knuckles. It looks like
she's had enough of that folks--she's rolling her panties down her
thighs now, her hands are both on her vulva, she's spreading her lips
apart a bit--and there's some moisture there tonight, let me tell ya
folks--and she's on her clit!

Mary is off to a good start now, working her cunt with a good brisk
pace. Her hips are bouncing, she's biting her lower lip...now her head
is thrashing back and forth...it looks like this is gonna be a big
one, folks....her hips are up off the sofa, her face is flushed, it
looks like-- Yes,she's coming! Another amazing masturbatory orgasm for
Mary! What a session! Now we'll give the champ a minute to catch her
breath, and we'll see if we can get a few words with her...

She was nervous and talking fast. I had this premonition--when we got
to my place, she wasn't gonna be able to stop. It would be a stream of
trivial patter--an impregnable shield against my advances. I knew I
had to do something if I was gonna prevent this. So when we got into
my apartment, I took her coat, hung it up, and immediately kissed her. She made a
little 'Mmph!' noise as I leaned in, and put her hands on my biceps,
but she kissed me back, opened her mouth to me little by little till
her lips were soft and slack, and her mouth was mine to explore.

I sat down on the sofa. "Undress." I told her.

She blinked at me, skin flushed, still a little dazed by the kiss. "Wha...?"

"Take off your clothes for me--I want to see you naked.

She crossed her arms defensively. "You mean--now?"

I supressed the urge to be sarcastic. "Come here," I said softly.

She stepped forward.

"Your safeword is 'fire.' Tell me what your safeword is."

"Um, fire. But. Shouldn't we--?"

She shrieked as my arm darted around her waist and I tugged her onto
my lap. "Hey, what are you doing?" she demanded.

I tugged her skirt up over her hips, exposing a lovely round little ass in
green satin panties. "You tell me," I said. "What am I doing?"

I tugged her panties down, luxuriating in the texture of her fine,
smooth skin, enjoying her squirming compact mass on my legs.

"You're getting ready to...to spank me," she said.

My first blow landed on her far cheek; she stiffened and
yelped. "That's exactly right," I said.

I lean against the wall, and listen to the slow, heavy tread of your
last volunteer walking up the steps. I finger the supplies in my
pocket with a small secret smile. You're sweeping. I ascend the steps
and latch the door from the inside. When I come back down, you give me
a puzzled look. I take the broom from your hands and throw it to the
ground, shove you up against the wall. You open your mouth to protest
and I cover it with mine, pressing my body against yours. You whimper
a little when I grab your hips and pull them tight up against me.
 I grab your wrists, wordlessly tug you over to face one of the
shelves. I pull a roll of duct tape out of my pocket, and your eyes
widen when I wrap your wrists in several turns of tape, binding them to the
shelves above your head. You hear the 'snick' of my knife behind your
ear, and I cut the roll of tape free. A moment later a ball gag is
pressed against your teeth. You open to receive it, and I buckle it
behind your head. I unfasten your belt, push your pants down to your
knees. You feel the cool air against your ass, your vulva. My hot palm
is cupping one sensitive cheek. "I'd advise you to be quiet," I
whisper, and then the first blow falls.

When I originally posted Urgent, I explained that it was created 'cause I wanted to try to write a story in the future tense. Someone replied that if I was feeling like challenges, I should try the future perfect. Bramble immediately came back with this gem:

My love,
I'm off to work. You looked so beautiful curled
up under the quilt like that, I couldn't bear to
wake you.

By the time I arrive home, you will have showered
& dressed, walked the dog, changed the bedclothes,
opened the top drawer, cuffed your arms and ankles
together, stripped naked for my pleasure, cleaned
the floor, and prepared lunch.

Bramble

P.S. In that order. 

1.
  "Dirty girl," I murmured, my hand at her throat, pressing her
against the brick wall. I was rewarded with a ragged gasp. My other
hand found its way under her jacket, around her waist, pressed her
hard against me. I could feel the faint fluttering of her heart
against my chest.
  In the semidarkness between streetlights, I bit her earlobe as cars
splashed through puddles behind me. I exhaled hot breath onto the nape
of her neck and heard her groan into my own ear, felt a shudder pass
through her.
  "Hands behind your back." She complied hurriedly. I gripped her hair
and pulled her head back, exposing the tender arch of her throat,
which I fell on--kissing, licking, biting. She whimpered and squirmed
against me, but her arms stayed locked behind her.
  I pulled back, and traced a finger along her lips. She clamped
her jaw defiantly, drawing in breath through flared nostrils. I
grinned and pressed my thumb against her lower jaw, slowly levering
her teeth apart.

2.
  I ran two fingers past the sharp ridges of her teeth, into the heat
and moisture of her mouth, moving their tips along the length of her
tongue. "Suck," I ordered, removing my thumb. Her lips closed around
my fingers, her tongue pressed against their length, her head bobbed
forward to take them in to the knuckle. I gasped as the tips pressed
up against her soft palate, her soft squirming tongue sending shivers
up my spine.
  I pushed more fingers into her mouth. Three, four. She opened wide
to accommodate them, closing her eyes, letting her jaw go slack. I
rubbed my wet hand over her face, smearing her own saliva onto her
parted lips, her flushed cheeks, her forehead. Then I slapped her.
Lightly, but enough to make her jerk in surprise. Gripping the back of
her head with both hands, I jammed my open mouth over hers, my tongue
shoving between her teeth, sucking the breath from her lungs.
Withdrawing, I sucked on her lower lip, bit down on it until she
yelped. Still holding her head, I looked into her eyes. "Dirty
bastard," she whispered.

-----------

This story is a double-bradley--two linked seventeen-line sections
intended to arouse the reader (or at least the author). It's a
variation on the Bradley Stoke Flash Stroke story, which was invented
by Mat Twassel.and is documented at
http://www.asstr.org/~twassel/BSFSF.htm