I answer the phone, knowing it’s you.

/ Daisy Danger / 2 Comments

I’ve been waiting. I lean back against the stack of pillows, the light from my cell phone throws odd shadows against the wall.

You tell me you miss me. I miss you too, even though it’s only been hours. By now, you’re on the other side of the state, too far away to turn around and fuck me one last time. I still catch the scent of you, on my pillows, my shirt, I will for days.

You tell me to slide my panties over my thighs, but not to take them off. Am I still wet? It only takes a moment to become wet all over again. I suck my finger and press it to my clit. I hear the cool dry flick of the lighter, the crackle of your cigarette, your slow exhalation. I imagine your smoky white halo, the black leather chair you’re sitting in right now. Continue reading →

A few odds and ends…

/ Daisy Danger / Leave a comment

First off: I’m very much enjoying writing for Whack! Magazine. This week I reviewed the new novel Island on the Edge of Normal by Guy New York, one of my favorite erotica writers. If you don’t know Guy’s writing, then you are in for a treat.

Also, in a fit of utter awesome silliness, I wrote a story about that magnificent beast, The Pornicorn for my friend Shon Richards. I’m still laughing about it, and I hope you will too.

Finally! The Mammoth Book of Best New Erotica 11 edited by Maxim Jakubowski is out. I’m so honored to have one of my stories selected for this volume. It’s for sale here on Amazon in paperback. No word on whether it will be released as an ebook, but I’m hoping so.

Also, I’ve been meaning to ask…how are all you new readers finding me? I’ve been getting a ton of new traffic lately, but I’m not sure where you all are coming from. I’d love to know! Leave me a comment or drop me a line on my contact page!

“Smother me with your cunt,” he whispers.

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Gently, I take his glasses and place them on the windowsill. He leans back into the mound of pillows, tucking the purple one under his neck. I sling my leg around and straddle his face, palms against the wall to keep my balance.

“No,” he says, grabbing my hips and pulling me down further. “Cover my face so I can’t breathe.”

“I know what kind of porn you’ve been watching,” I say, “Filthy boy.” I crouch down lower, grabbing his head, forcing his mouth to meet me.

Stubble grinds into my thighs, a thousand delightful little pinpricks. He laps at my clit with short forceful strokes. I squirm around, then lower myself one final inch, completely burying his face in my pussy. I don’t so much hear his muffled moan as feel it, a low vibration purring against my cunt. Continue reading →

Alan makes me desperate for him, like a ridiculous drug.

/ Daisy Danger / 4 Comments

He’s strung me along for years and I fall for it every time. Sometimes it’s a day before he calls again, sometimes it’s months. But when he does, I’m here, like always, an obedient, lovesick puppy.

We’re watching nothing in particular on TV, flicking through channels of game shows and sitcoms. He’s sprawled across the battered couch, I sit on the floor next to the couch, hoping he’ll make a move, but he doesn’t. He mostly ignores me, other than to occasionally ask me to grab him another Budweiser. Just when he senses I’ve had about enough and I’m ready to leave, he says “Wanna take a shower with me?”

Alan doesn’t really give me much choice, not that I would say no anyway. He takes my hand and leads me to the bathroom. The faucet squawks in protest as he turns the water on. It’s an old trailer home, so the bathtub is made of cheap molded blue plastic. The tile was white once, but it’s also cheap and it’s turned a tobacco stained yellow here and there. Every girl’s seduction fantasy backdrop, I’m sure, but it’s all I’ve got. Continue reading →

This is one of those paramount moments,

/ Daisy Danger / 4 Comments

the kind that echoes around in your brain forever. A moment of what-if’s and should-have-beens. I’ll give the ending away right now: We won’t kiss or caress, we certainly won’t have sex, fuck, or even make love, but this moment is enough. It’ll have to be.

I won’t even tell you the back story, it’s sort of complicated and mostly boring. I’ll fast forward through all the getting-to-know-you and mundane conversations. Just know that she’s Kim, my friend’s Tony’s girlfriend and I’m crushing on her, hard. I think the feeling is mutual.

We sit on her bed, talking, like we’ve done a hundred times before and she turns to me.

“Would you like to brush my hair?” She unloosens it from her ponytail as she asks, crystal blonde waves fall around her shoulders. I look around, and she points to the hairbrush on the dresser. In my mind, when I remember this moment, it’s a heavy old fashioned Victorian silver brush with an ornate handle and all the romantic trappings one can attach to a brush. The sun streams through the windows, the light catching every nuance in her shimmering hair. Continue reading →

We retire to the living room after dinner.

/ Daisy Danger / 4 Comments

“Strawberry or vanilla?” Mister asks from the doorway, holding a small carton of ice cream in each hand. “Never vanilla,” coos Anya.

The three of us squeeze together on a small plaid sofa, a DVD  I’ve missed the title of plays on the television. I try to look interested, but I can’t follow the plot. The tension of the moment is giving me a headache, I wish one of them would make a move. I’m pretty sure I wasn’t invited over just to be fed. Finally, as if he read my mind, Mister leans over me, plants a hand firmly against my crotch, and kisses Anya. When Anya leans over to kiss him back, Mister places her hand on my thigh. They kiss inches from my face, neither acknowledging my presence save for their hands.

Anya radiates longing, but she isn’t sure what to do with me in the middle. Mister grabs a handful of her hair, she moans, I try not to whimper.  I know his firm grip, how Mister pulls my hair just so, how that hard tug means I’m nothing but a possession to him. I moan again from the memory. He finally looks at me, but it’s a dismissive flicker before he turns his attention back to Anya.

“Bedroom,” Mister suddenly decides. “Both of you.” We silently untangle ourselves from the couch and go into the bedroom. Neither of us wants to be the first one to sit on the bed, the hierarchy is unclear.  Continue reading →

I bend over the kitchen counter.

/ Daisy Danger / 2 Comments

Some glitch has left the digital display on the microwave permanently dimmed, so the only way to read it is to get up close. We’re getting ready to make dinner. He’s standing behind me, looking at the contents of the cupboard.

Suddenly, the world turns white. A plastic shopping bag crinkles loudly around my head. My shorts and panties slide down my thighs, I step out of one side, leaving the other side to pool around my foot. His feet nudge my legs outward. I spread for him. My shirt lifts over my tits, he squeezes them hard after he exposes them.  Continue reading →

“I know someone who would fuck you right now,” says Ben.

/ Daisy Danger / 4 Comments

I’ve spent the afternoon lamenting about my lack of fucking lately. Ben’s my roommate, even though we fuck now and then, he doesn’t count.

“Who?” I sit up, interested. I snap off the television and give him my full attention.

“Jones,” he answers with a smirk.

“Get the fuck out of here!” I shriek, throwing a pillow at him.

Jake Jones is the drummer for my friend’s band. Everyone else in the band goes for the “metal” look: skimpy goatees and long greasy hair. Jones possesses soft black curls and brilliant green eyes, baby-faced and adorable. He’s the one the groupies anxiously hang around the stage for, squealing when he takes off his sweaty t-shirt halfway through the set. He’s never treated me as anything more than one of the guys. Honestly, he’s so far out of my league looks-wise that I’ve never even fantasized about fucking him before. Continue reading →