Contributor: Roger Leatherwood - - I knew exactly what came over me. It was the boiling warmth in my balls, the orgasm growing that would explode into my drunken wife within seconds. My mind was not my own, my erection an animal apart from my body and yet connected, raging and hard and grown deep and rooted within my soul, my ardor and pulling my stomach as I rammed slowly into the slippery snatch of my wife, who lay on the neighbor's bedclothes. Jason had come in, maybe looking for a bathroom or to get away from the band in the den, and stood watching. I saw him and did not stop. I kept going at my wife, she was my wife after all, pants around my ankles. That Nicki was so drunk that her eyes were rolling into her head even as she spread her legs as wide as she could on the tangled sheets to let me in - that her hand was reaching...

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Author: Roger Leatherwood

Contributor: Paul Tristram - - Down at Scumland, population cunts is where I now happen to reside. Down at Scumland, population cunts is where I now do drunkenly hide. At home with the whores and junkies and at one with the common thief. I saturate my senses continually I take all kinds of quick relief. The rain and sun don’t bother us they’re just backdrops to the shite. The shite we’re all living through which the weather can’t put right. I take it easy and I take it all I’m accustomed to my surroundings. Down at Scumland, population cunts we’re all individual and astounding. - - - Paul Tristram is a Welsh writer who has poems, short stories and sketches published in many publications around the world, he yearns to tattoo porcelain bridesmaids instead of digging empty graves for innocence at midnight, this too may pass, y...

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Author: Paul Tristram

Contributor: Paul Tristram - - The erotic mind on drugs is a wonderful place to be. The erotic mind on drugs yes, it always seduces me. It makes my soul go quivery, it sets my nerves ablaze. Every small touch and caress sends my emotions into a daze. The erotic mind on drugs effects more than the head. The erotic mind on drugs sends me jumping for the bed. - - - Paul Tristram is a Welsh writer who has poems, short stories and sketches published in many publications around the world, he yearns to tattoo porcelain bridesmaids instead of digging empty graves for innocence at midnight, this too may pass, y...

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Author: Paul Tristram

Contributor: Paul Tristram - - He sat there, thinking of her again wiping someone else's blood away, cornered in cell number 2. In they came, team handed 8 of the fuckers, with broom handles "You dirty bastard, fucking scum!" He headbutted the first one then frowned loudly to himself, after 3 broken jaws they evaporated into silken mists before his eyes. And he left the cell backwards unable to help the other man sat in the corner Chewing his left fist off with fear. - - - Paul Tristram is a Welsh writer who has poems, short stories and sketches published in many publications around the world, he yearns to tattoo porcelain bridesmaids instead of digging empty graves for innocence at midnight, this too may pass, y...

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Author: Paul Tristram

Contributor: E Young - - Jason has watched enough anime to know where this is going. He was staying with his e-friend Susumu—alias CharClone008—in Chicago for a bit so that he could attend a con. Even though Susumu constantly scolded him for having no job and no money, somehow he'd still managed to drive all the way from Virginia to spend tens of dollars along with all the other sweaty fanboys. He tried to get Susumu to go with him, but he passed. He even tried to pay him a little rent money since he'd be there for a few days, but all Susumu wanted in return was a cute little souvenir. Susumu worked nights at a bar downtown and slept most of the day, leaving Jason alone to eat chips and watch old mecha tapes and DVDs. It was a pretty good life, mostly what he did at home anyway except Susumu didn't leave the A/C on twenty-four/seven...

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Author: E Young