Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Filthy.
A Series: Chapter 15.5
You Think I Ain't Worth a Dollar, But I feel Like a Millionaire by Queens of the Stone Age plays from a speaker in Steve's apartment, the screaming rock blasting in and off the walls. Three shots are poured and three shots are taken by Steve, Warren and Larry who are all dressed up nicely. Larry the only one of the three pairing his dress shirt with a tie. Standing around the table in the kitchen Warren pours another round of whiskey shots and both Steve and Larry are drinking beer jamming out to the music "This song gets me fucking going" Larry says interrupting his singing along. Those are poured and the boys cheers and take them Steve gags from the brown and quickly chugs the rest of his beer while Larry laughs at him. Warren pulls out his phone, telling them he's ordering an Uber "I'm so pumped" he tells them excitedly and they start to get ready to go. Larry gets his coat on and looks over at Steve "Were also happy to be celebrating your interview with you Stevie" "Exactly and no better way than seeing some big tits dance on a pole. I think I'm gonna meet my future wife tonight, I can feel it in the air" Warren says slipping a pair of dress shoes on "It's a celebration bitches" Steve yells laughing "Maybe we can request that song? Do strippers take requests?" Steve asks as the three boys stumble out the door and head outside...
By Jackson Picco 4 years ago in Filthy
An Improper Connection
Feel it. Feel it. Feel it. You know it’s me. The way I touch you. You crave it, but you can’t show it. You try to hide it, but you never stop me. Your eyes, they make sure to tell me what your mouth struggles to. The desires you’ve been fantasizing about. I know them, baby. I see through the charade you put up for the world because I know what lies within is a freak.
By Gourav Bhattacharya4 years ago in Filthy
Men - Same sex experience. You didn't know.
Does enjoying a sexual experience with someone of the same sex change your orientation? Well, does it? What if you didn’t know you were having an experience with someone of the same sex. Is it about intention or outcome? Difficult questions if you’ve had an experience and found out that it was a same-sex experience? Can you imagine your Alpha juice being consumed by a Beta and not even knowing it was a Beta? Then looking back and struggling with the reality that you didn’t know and what the heck difference did it make then or now?
By Derick Sinclar4 years ago in Filthy
Taken by the Prince
I managed to make my way to the shore with my newly formed legs. It felt weird trying to swim with them instead of my tail and it was tedious how long it took to swim what used to be a short distance for me. By the time I reached the shore, my legs were burning.
By Amora Jones4 years ago in Filthy
When Does An Open Relationship Cross the Line Into Sex Work?
I don’t think of myself as a particularly naive person. I’ve known many people who dabble in the lifestyle — myself included — and a few people for whom it is a pretty full-time passion. And, of course, I know of people who engage in sex work and others who engage sex workers.
By Chai Steeves4 years ago in Filthy
A taste of Zoe
Allison leaned back and stared at the screen, but the view was the same as when she’d been hunched forward, her fingers poised over the keyboard, fruitlessly waiting for inspiration to strike: there was nothing but a blank document, the cursor blinking at her over and over again.
By Laura Steele4 years ago in Filthy
Following The Owl
Following the Owl Rowan woke in the night to the sound of a barn owl’s cry, turning her head she watched out the glass French doors of her room to see the magnificent animal land on the railing of her terrace and stared at her through wide eyes. Climbing out of bed Rowan pulled a sweater over her tank top and shorts before opening the doors. Walking out slowly she approached the bird, reaching a hand out to brush the back of her fingers over its snowy white breast. It gave a soft hoot before spreading its wings to take flight. Rowan saw it look back down at her as it circled once as if saying fallow me. Taking a breath, she headed down the stairs to fallow the owl into the woods.
By Marie Ross4 years ago in Filthy
Introverted Stream of Consciousness
This is why I Stay Home... Sober me is a bit of a prude. Sitting at the bar… actively engaging with the live music via the tapping of my foot… the scent of man enters my olfactory senses. My subconscious hunts for an odor that it craves. Dank masculine pheromones that turn my eyes white as they roll to the back of my skull… running my tongue across my upper teeth, I’m half expecting fangs to rip through my gums. Tonight feels like the perfect night to meet someone. Naïvety is prevalent in my romantic endeavors… Being introverted halts me from making eyes around the room. I want him to come to me. I want my energy to resonate like gravity and draw him into my sphere. Sandalwood stirs the air around me as people get up and down from their seats. A mysterious stranger seated in red seems to be looking in my direction… I don’t dare look at him for fear of being wrong. There is live music after all. This is why I don’t go out…my lack of regular physical contact feels like an involuntary halo of desperation. My wants and my needs bargain with each other to allow my ego just a taste of someone…An unfamiliar musk to satiate my Eros spirit. My tongue lashes out playfully licking my lips out of sexual hunger. Desire to sink my teeth into flesh and let my pleasure paint the air in moans becomes more permissible with each drink. Self control in these situations is the foundation of my pride. Right now all I want to do is rip that away. The scent of man is in my nose and it’s exactly what I crave god dammit… There is no resolution for me. Each sip of bourbon flavored citrus lowers my inhibitions. Allowing me to become more seduced. The possibilities surrounding me force my brain into a think tank. The path to my physical desires is more simple than I’m making it out to be and I know it. Why do I play this game with myself? To see if who I want wants me? Probably… The complexity of my basic desires is being reduced to wanting to make out. I need the safety of home. Away from strangers and possibility. The probability of a regrettable decision in this atmosphere is high. If I weren’t drinking it would be drastically lowered but then what would happen to my anxiety? Fuck…! What is it about the atmosphere of a bar that makes you hope someone will approach you… in the way you fantasized without consequence? Fuck cravings… fuck, cravings…
By Evan Jackson4 years ago in Filthy
