Fiction Archives:
1) Stories 80-61
Stories 60-41
3) Stories 40-21
4) Stories 20-01

Excerpt From a Novel, The Keating Script
by Tom Sheehan

"If another eye were put on them, if another view were to be seen of them, if somebody were to peer in the window, new judgments would be made of the trio. May Keating absolutely bloomed in the midst of them, a literary menage a trois. Her eyes lit up by an inner flame, long, too long, subdued. Expressions leaping to her face, crowding it into old issues, freeing from a secret vault the unused traces of her innermost feelings, highlighting her golden cheeks, the mouth whose parts were the elegance of lips almost dripping with themselves. The very set of her jaw became for the moment softer in its iron than it had been since the very crucible which had set it."

Cassidy Trench Always Gets Her Man
by Jo McCoy
"Staying low to the ground, she crept through the high grass. The blades whipped at her face as she made her way swiftly toward the field. She was certain that the noise had come from this area but it was empty, save a few horses chewing in the distance. Cassidy crouched with one knee in the soft dirt, waiting. Then something caught her eye in the trees that created a perforated line at the far edge of her property. She sped through the grass once again to get a closer look. What she saw was unmistakably a pair of legs which slid out the lonely scrabbly little apple tree. The sight stopped her short. Horses she’d shoot a man for, but apples?"

Sarah's Case
by Chip Friday
"All these guys I meet are the same. They’re passionless, tepid. I’ve grown to hate the word "tepid." When I answer an ad, I always use this word: 'I’m sick of tepid guys. I want to be seduced. I want to be taken care of.'"

The Church of Aphrodite’s Children
by William H. Libaw
"In their dressing cubicle at the church, C. C. Robeesy’s wife was reluctant to take off her clothes. Having already put his own garments in the locker, he said, 'Ann, you’ve been there, done that. You shed your body shyness years ago. Remember those sniff-me taste-me sessions? When you took us to The Center for Higher Awareness of The Lower Functions?'"

Almost Rickshaw
by Tom Sheehan
"Maye Tuong was twice as old as me. I was a fourteen-year old freshman in high school and she had been catching my eye for almost a year. I didn’t really know why that was happening, though the exploration was enjoyable, at times exciting, blood flow at early expression. When she walked, which was just about every place she went in town, her hips made me think about boats hitched to a slack rope at the tide change, where the river and the ocean met three miles downstream."

Apple, for Whom I Have Scoured the Universe
by Tom Sheehan
"While we are here patrolling our lives, moving about, now and then we meet, not with great frequency I must admit, most memorable people. They, in turn, haunt us one way or another until our last vision fades away, be it a turn of their face, a hand’s movement in sweet gesture, a universal shoulder announcement as they change direction, or attitude, or deference. Perhaps their impacts are from what they don’t do as well as from what they do."

by Kris Saknussemm
"Without the Quaaludes and Canadian Club, I found myself crawling out of shoes like a millipede, waiting for the black woman in the curtain less window across the alley to begin. A giant scarab becoming a woman behind steamed glass, flesh so dark and real I could almost catch her fragrance."

by Catherine Leary
"I was born in New England and it’s a cold place. Raised in the four iron walls of the long winter. Left to brood in the dark. Growing up there made me strange though I never understood how strange until I’d shaken the winter salt from my boots. I drove south and watched the summers lengthen and felt the heat make its home in my skin. The forgotten dream spurred me onward and some days I thanked it and others I cursed it but I was happy to have the ice melted out of my toes."

Excerpt from the novel, Self-Murder
by Robert Scott Leyse
"Was I speaking aloud when I heard my voice intone, “I want to drink your death!”? In other words, did I whisper it into the ear of she with whom I was spending the night or silently recite it to myself? I wouldn’t bother to ask had I not suddenly become aware that her hands were pressing against—slapping at—my chest in a manner which seemed more strident than playful; aware it was almost as if she was insisting I raise myself off of her, bring the proceedings to a halt."

The Dead End Job
by Laurence Klavan

"They had started doing it at work because they had been so fucking bored. Not that Isabel had expected to be thrilled, exactly, collecting data in a company that made security systems—let her get this straight—so that “passive requestors” could strengthen the “trust realms” between “insecure” computers, so that web browsers could better “make requests” of—oh, the whole thing had been so lame to begin with, and so would anybody working in it..."

Where There’s Sin…
by Daryn Houston
"She thinks about when she applied – just an ad in the paper for a customer service representative for a fruit basket company. She did not expect their boss Lisa to have a secondary job running a brothel. She watches Nathaniel blink several times at the ceiling and starts to massage his neck."

NONFICTION: After Henry: De-Demonising Miller
by Barry Baldwin

"Henry Miller has been ill-served by both defenders and detractors. Muddle begins at the simple bibliographical level. Kingsley Widmer calls his first biography (by Jay Martin, 1978) "co-operative"; Ronald Gottesman dubs it "unauthorised"; Mary Dearborn and Karl Orend (TLS, June 20, 2003) assert Miller tried to quash it." The first nonfiction essay published by Sliptongue, by distinguished scholar Barry Baldwin.

The Sex Doctor Chronicles: Pavlov’s Pussy
by Adam Madison
"Now, I am a sex doctor, so I don’t deal with animals. The only exception was a mule that I met in Amsterdam, but that’s a surprisingly boring story. Instead I work with gorgeous little nymphomaniacs from around the world, and I am telling you that I can provoke their vaginal secretions simply by ringing a bell. This may sound insane, but I have proven it during one five-day-long experiment. I took on the project after making a bet with Mr. Garza, a personal friend and a famous entrepreneur in the sex industry."

The Diagnosis
by Tom Hathaway
"Dad wished the doc had just shot him right then. To live under a death sentence, to feel time running out with nothing to do about it, seemed to make life not worth living. He got so depressed he couldn't take care of himself. Everything seemed too much trouble."

by Greg Jenkins
"When I drew near my truck, a pink light came on above me, and it shot through my fuzzy mind that this—the sudden wash of pinkness—might be another effect of the methylene chloride. But then I looked up and saw a large lilac bush, heavy with thick white flowers, and behind it a wooden apartment house, and above the white-tipped lilac, two stories up, a casement window glowing softly with a warm pink light. In a moment, the girl stepped to the window."

Blind Tasting
by EllaRegina

"They were the epitome of sophistication and urbane modern living. The men had long been vasectomized, completely relieving their marriages of pregnancy scares and latex fluid barriers. The couples were close and getting closer. The Montridge Eight gatherings elicited flirtatious behavior that grew stronger over the years. It began with one foot finding another under the table, or venturing further, toes slowly massaging a crotch. Hands would sneak inside waistbands from behind."

Leon’s Lament
by Flavian Mark Lupinetti

"Furthermore, as in similar acts of an athletic nature, the art of Tongue Fu requires the development of the supportin’ muscles as well. Even the strongest tongue can fatigue early if you neglect the deltoids and the traps and the sternocleidomastoids, which could lead to your lettin’ up on the reins just as your filly is nearin’ the finish line. Which is just plain embarrasin’."

Vice Grip
by Kevin Brown
"Behind him, on the big screen TV, this Asian chick’s taking it in the out way. Her palms pressing her tits together, her hair cinched in roped pigtails. Mouth O’d the way Kalli’s is now. Mike stands and says, 'Babe, this is not what it looks.' Noticing the shadow of his prick on the wall, he holds a hand out mime-style and says, 'At least I’m not cheating,' and she says, 'Yeah, at least there’s that.'"

Rain and the Library
by Kris Saknussemm

"Perched on the tall ladder, your skirt falls in such a way, that by standing behind the ladder I can not only glimpse, but luxuriantly examine, the curve of your ass. If I move forward, slipping between the ladder and the shelf, I can look up and see your pussy just above me…and more than that. Stopped still in mid air above me, I am close enough to catch your scent…"

Liaisons for Laughs: Angie & Ella's Summer of Delirium, Chapter One
by Robert Scott Leyse
"Central Park (Closest approximation of natural wilds any town could hope to have!) always tosses me off-balance in a good way, teeters me towards being rasher than my already rash self; yesterday, the effect was heightened. I was vividly—almost unbearably—aware of every flying, scampering, noisy sustenance-craving creature; my blood was ahum with the struggle each living thing shares—the never quiet urge to prolong its stay on earth and propagate itself!" Sliptongue is serializing the first three chapters of Robert Scott Leyse's novel.

Above the Summer Moonlight
by Marsha Lockom
"I had come dressed appropriately to garner attention from both the management and band members, should I be able to meet them. Doors do seem to open for a pretty girl in the male world of metal music. I wore short-shorts, four-inch ankle tie sandals and a top cut low enough that some white skin on the tops of my breasts became sunburned from first ever exposure. Most of the fans were teenage males who secretly cast glances my way, but were never bold enough to approach. Thank goodness it was clear I was not there for them.

First Tango in Manhattan
by Tom Hathaway
"So both of us are causalities of the love wars. We get along pretty well as roommates. Instead of paying rent, he does the cooking and cleaning. Some of my friends joke about me having a live-in male maid, but I don't see it that way. It's just division of labor. At first I had to put some pressure on him to get him to raise his housekeeping standards above bachelor slob level, and his culinary skills are still in the learn-by-doing stage, but we've got a functioning living unit going here."

Honeymoon with Shannon
by Thom Gautier
"Sometimes in my office as we edited one of her Godawful poems our knuckles brushed. Mostly we kept a safe distance. I’d lean back in my chair unbuttoning her blouse with my eyes, imagining planting a kiss near her neckline, my hands cupping and massaging her breasts, suckling her nipples. She would ask me what I was thinking and I answered with cryptic poetic remarks. “I’m thinking of rain and the color pink.” She would hug her bag so hard that her blouse’s neckline would reveal her bra strap."

His Respect
by Larry Smith
"He knew about Leif from the beginning. She was always honest about it. It was hard to break with him, she had confessed, and, yes, they could be married, but this old lover was somebody that she just couldn’t let go of right away. There might even be nights she’d come home late because of some mutual felt need for intimacy. And he agreed to it, first because he wanted her so much, and, second, because he had faith it was, finally, toward him that she was most deeply headed with all her heart and soul."

So This is Goodbye
by Gwen Wilson

"She was a small handful of a woman, just under five feet with curves that couldn’t hide under her clothes and an uncertain smile. Her green tank top hung carelessly low, her brown pants were rolled up loosely above her calves and the leather straps of her sandals crisscrossed her ankles. And, somehow, despite the fact that the humidity treated everyone else like a washcloth, wringing sweat from their bodies, she never even seemed hot."

Carpe Diem
by Tom Hathaway
"He turned out the light and got in, his breath now quicker and deep in his throat. I could hear how much he wanted me. He moved right towards me and clasped me in his arms, drew me into him. I dived into the hollow of his shoulder as if trying to hide. I couldn't, though. Dad's hands were on me, first my back, then my breasts. He kissed my lips in a way he never had before, with a deep exploring urgency. As he pressed against me, I could feel how much he wanted me."

The Colonoscoper and the Snake Charmeuse
by EllaRegina
"V. gently bends me forward so that my head rests on my knees. He inserts a finger into my pussy, exploring its eager status, teasing me with a second finger, and, for an instant a third, moving the troika as a unit leisurely in and out. He brings his hand to his face, favorably evaluating my private scent and flavor, then reaches towards me, offering his fingers which I smell and taste with glee, adding the moisture from my mouth as I suck and lick them clean."

Jungle Dream
by Harry Johnson
"The woman's face was visible now. Her eyes were shut tight, clenched. Her lips were pursed in anguish. She had a pretty face. Her features were strong: arrogant chin, high cheekbones, and a proud forehead. Her neck was long and feminine and yet sinewy and muscular. Her ears were pierced, but there was no sign of earrings. Her torso was smeared with their blood. The bullets that had killed the man had penetrated her rib cage just beneath her right breast. Nick’s mind whirred like a high-powered computer, calculating how he fit into this scene."

A Season in Florida
by Emanuele Pettener

"I lost myself in her eyes, and she in mine. I’ve always had a way with women, and she got all excited when I asked about her book – she unexpectedly got up to get it, and I saw her rise with all the grace of a twenty-year old girl, and I became earth and stone, I was filled with love for mankind, I felt fire rise within me, oh unforgettable moment of bliss! Up she rose and her ass was regal, languid, an ass begging to be bitten, an ass on which to succumb to slumber. She had the ass of a queen of Persia..."

Through Alice Glass Darkly
by Larry Smith
"Alice Glass was demure, diminutive, nearly exquisite. Her eyes really were green. She had lovely thin lips. Naked, when she’d admire her puckered blood-red nipples in the mirror, she imagined the joy of men seeing them for the first time. How sweet to the suck they must be! Alice walked on girlish little chicken legs. Her back tapered smoothly to her bum. Sometimes, she cropped her dark blond hair. Other times, she put it up in a bun like a schoolmarm’s. She knew how men exalt to make a schoolmarm moan. Howling was the gift she gave the men she wanted happy."

Asking For It
by Beth Friedland
"The spongy tape and the soft rope are tools of his benevolent cruelty. The devices and his use of them in specific times serve to keep me sufficiently restrained without endangering me excessively. I am fully confined, even with some discomfort smoldering in my limbs, but the danger is minimal, and the pain insignificant so he can rest without having to monitor my breathing and safety every moment."

Bad Back
by Tom Hathaway
"I had a hard-on almost the whole time I was massaging her. Afterwards, I had lover's nuts -- my balls would ache and there'd be a cramp at the base of my cock, the whole thing sore from being hard for so long. I'd jerk off thinking about mom, what her hidden parts looked like, what it would be like to be in her. I'd had lots of girls, was what the counselors and magazines call a "sexually active teen," but I wanted mom more than any of them."

Meet Your Match on Craigslist--by a Victorious Veteran
by Prof. Barbara Foster

"Eager beavers from twenty to seventy responded to the ad I posted for an “attractive, mature, sophisticated man unafraid to show his feelings in a long term relationship with potential for growth on both sides.” Since the majority of my in the flesh meetings with wannabe lovers had headed south, imagine my delight when age appropriate Desmond materialized."

by Russell Bittner
"She loved the “W” as no one should rightfully love a subway line. She loved it for its obscurity and for the sound of its name. Most of all, she loved it for its possibilities. The “W” was long-haul – like a Mack or a Maersk, cross-country or trans-oceanic. The long-hauls had the time and patience to get into a rhythm – to settle down onto the tracks or into the waves and go the distance. With time, patience and distance, there was always the possibility of romance, and she lived daily in that hope."

by Laurence Klavan
"Was he kidding, this kid? He didn’t seem to be—and he wasn’t flirting, either, not in the usual way, which is what Allie had figured at first. A weak wind made her belly feel cool and she remembered that her shirt was sweated through, he could clearly see the flower pattern on her bra; but the boy didn’t look there, didn’t direct one guilty glance, engaged her eyes the whole time, which was a first since she was fifteen with men and boys of any age."

by Amelia Beamer

"The silence lasted only a moment. Long enough. She wished she’d had one more drink at the bar. That she was a little thinner or funnier. That this didn’t mean as much as it did. She wanted him still, wondered if she should make the first move. How delicate this moment was, she thought. How easily the tenderness might boil away."

by Roger Bonner

"Marriage and domesticity with its concessions and petty squabbles had never held much appeal for him. He preferred a carefree life with the thrill of acquiring a fresh lover at least once or twice a year. However, this was at a price. The wooing and bedding of a new woman had become more arduous, not to mention the dumping process. His relationships always ended hysterically, with the women shedding copious tears or even physically attacking him, like Ginger."

Batman's Cabin
by Sarah Elmendorf

"Guts likes slim whores with long straight hair, any color, and the ability to balance a checkbook. Right now he's seeing an elementary school teacher named Jeanette. She likes cheap cigarettes, Portuguese fados, and the Beastie Boys. She sings country western karaoke, and wears stud seed pearl earrings, tiny horn rim glasses, and pink satin girl boxers that peek out of the waistband of her Levi's when she's bent over picking up kid toys or scouring the ring out of the bathtub."

Chocolate Girl
by Sam Jayne
"Despite her love of candy, she somehow maintained a perfect figure; slim but still shapely. Her breasts bulged in the confinements of her black T-Shirt, which sported the cheeky slogan, “Bite Me!”, emblazoned across her chest in pink lettering. She was in her mid twenties, enigmatic and seemingly wise to the world. I wanted her badly."

by Kris Saknussemm

"Then we start to get really hot…touching each other…kissing…and then we think what it would be like to fuck while on the wheel, flying around this haunted fairground. You’ve got this flimsy mint julep dress on with no panties and I’m wearing microfiber cargo pants. You’re wet and ready. It’s easy for me to pull it out and slide into you. You can ride me while we speed higher and harder around and around."

Child’s Position
by Dawn Ryan

"She was no Lama, I knew that. It wasn’t possible that she could have reached enlightenment in such a short period of time, and how does one willfully go from finger-fucking in the bathroom stall of some dive to meditating under the Boddhi tree? And how does it become a for-profit enterprise? I hadn’t even spoken to her and I was angry with her already. A master of what? A healer of what? The magic that had lived inside of me and kept me believing and hopeful, the image of Lily that had meant so much to me, The Virgin Mother herself, all her greatness and glory, was demolished the second I learned that she called herself a master, a healer, a missionary, a nun."

The Other Woman
by Gwen Wilson

"Thomas knew that he had no reason to be truthful or, for that matter, to believe anything told to him. For all he knew, Lilac69 was a thirteen-year old boy from Pennsylvania, a transvestite from Texas, maybe a college student in Taiwan. Or she could be what she said she was: a 39-year old Baltimore woman contemplating divorce from a man who had, she was relatively certain, spent the last year screwing one of their neighbors."

Workplace Surprise
by Sarah Elmendorf
"She smelled sick, a poison sick coming from her pores and her breath. Otis was reminded of the deathbed stink of his younger brother Johnie, who sold cane liquor from the trunk of his blocked up El Dorado in the front yard of his his kudzu vined palace in Yoayus, Tennessee. Johnie drank the liquor, too, plenty of it, and turned sick from it, really sick because he had contracted hep from all the other stuff he did."

Naked Physics
by Kelly Jameson
"I feel aroused as I think of lying across the top of the piano, getting fucked over the guts and strings of one of the great symbols of civility, my legs spread ignobly, my body tuned to the physical sensations of sound and movement, moisture and masculinity. I wonder why I haven’t done it before, on top of the modern incarnation of the invention of a man who was a harpsichord maker for a Florentine duke, a man who knew in the late 1600s and early 1700s, even though he couldn’t yet see it yet, that there was more to the world of sound than strings that had to be plucked and coerced to give up their sounds."

White Hot Lies
by Matthew Proujansky
"'I'm being stalked by the last man I interviewed. He's scary as hell. He's been in and out of jail since he was a juvenile, but he never spent more than three years inside for any one crime. That was for assault. Then he raped a woman. He was looking at twenty-five years, but she couldn’t bring herself to testify, and he got off. I know her, and I know what he did to her. And the way he looks at me I know he wants to do the same to me.'"

Fiction Archives:
1) Stories 80-61
Stories 60-41
3) Stories 40-21
4) Stories 20-01





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