Brown skin and muscled curves defined my lust. But tonight, this new form. Pale and soft. Freckles, and perfume. Flame red hair, true all the way. I knew brown lips that give way to pink pleasure, but tonight the whole world’s pink and freckled, moaning as my tongue lashes slick, honeyed lips. Her lame husband’s absent, as usual. I rise to face her beautiful green eyes, flanked by auburn hair. She tastes herself on my lip...

What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas? We went there, looking for a good time but not truthfully expecting anything crazy. But I got sick on route. Fucking ceviche! I told Isla to go have a good time, saying, “Don’t let my misfortune ruin your fun.” She came back, many hours later, moderately drunk but rolling hard. I was on the path to recovery, feeling like I could maybe get back in the game. But what she offered me was...

I wrote a tale some time ago named “The Sexathalon.” It’s written from the third-person perspective, and I chronicled absolutely insane and sexy events often in large swaths just so I could get the story told in its entirety. These events ultimately had a significant impact on our world. More joy in your life? Having more sex? Hitting orgasm more quickly? Wine tastes sweeter? "The Sexathalon" is probably why, praise Bacch...