I did think that you guys would be good at this.
Happy Valentines Day.
"I was a teenaged goth time-traveler.
"She was a woman with whatever physical attributes describing my appreciation for which will not lead to feminists condemning me as a sexist jerk.
"We collaborated on drafting plans for a new kind of catamaran, if you know what I mean and I think you do."
"How much fellatio?" I asked, throatily.
"Infinite fellatio!" he replied.
On hearing the password, I let the door swing open...
It says they have to be true! Not bloody likely.
post here? Megan's? Or in her Smutty Shorts?
If you've got something true and pretty, I'd put it on the Shorts site. We can tell jokes here.
True is much better, Ned. But you can post presidentially if you must.
Doesn't have to be pretty. Raunchy'd be good.
I thought you wanted literary merit.
Not that raunchy is incompatible with literary merit, of course.
My co-developers like literary merit. Me, I really would like to ejaculate sometimes in the next hour and I'm willing to ignore literary merit to do it.
If you've got something true and pretty
Incompatible.
"My vixen, rest your head on my knees. I am not happy, and yet you are enough. Candlestick or meteor, there is no full heart or future left on earth. The steps of dusk reveal your murmur, lair of mint and rosemary, whispered secret between autumn's russets and your ethereal dress. You are the soul of the mountain with its deep flanks, its rocks hushed behind lips of clay. How the wings of your nose tremble. How your hand secures the path and draws the curtain of the trees closer. My vixen, in the presence of the two stars, frost and wind, I place in you every broken hope, for a victorious thistle of rapacious solitude."
The Wesley Willis "Ode to Smutshorts" is the best so far.
Earlier today while having a kind of sexy, mostly whimsical conversation about erotic fiction, in a fit of inspiration I bought a gob of it: Cendrars's Moravagine, Mirbeau's The Torture Garden, Maldoror and other stuff by Comte de Lautréamont, Barbusse's Hell which isn't really supposed to be very sexy, and Delta of Venus by Anaïs Nin. (I typically buy books in binges which I think is the only way to do it.)
13: Megan can ejaculate? A rare and much appreciated skill among the fairer sex.
Marvin Gaye thumped softly as you slid your jeans off your legs and onto the floorboards. The house had been empty and on the market for months, so there was no worry about being interrupted as the car idled in the driveway. Headlights now and again lit the empty space above our bodies and wet tires hissed past just a car length behind us. For weeks afterward, your footprints would appear on the windshield whenever it fogged up.
I flash back to it every time I have an outbreak.
I wouldn't say it's all that rare or difficult for anyone.
Zounds!
Gadzooks!
See? Simple as anything.
21: Choose Your Own Adventure porn?
Armsmasher, you should pick up Springer's Progress. Art-historical tidbits and allusions to "The Jabberwocky" repurposed to describe anal sex—what's not to like?
I wouldn't say it's all that rare or difficult for anyone.
Only if you don't are about literary merit. I mean, "Gadzooks"?
21: Marvin Gaye was right there in the car with you? Thumping someone?
(posting doesn't work at Smut Shorts, so have mine here. This is perfectly true and somehow Unfoggedian.)
That kiss in the bar made patience worthwhile and impossible at once. And what patience we would need: I was sick, then you were; you were snowbound in Denver and I was called back into work.
Finally, you found your way to my apartment in the middle of the day (don't call it a date!) and I guided you to my bedroom.
"I'm not going to have sex with you," you said.
"Define 'sex'," I said.
You paused. You thought.
"No," you said.
Marvin Gaye was right there in the car with you? Thumping someone?
In the trunk. The thumping had been much louder, but he was really tiring out by that point. We eventually let him out.
Hey Ronnie,
Sorry to hear the website didn't work for you. Would you be agreeable to my posting it on the site for you? If you wish to converse on this matter my email address, smutshorts at gmail, will do just fine.
Yours sincerely,
Bill
It's a bit Post Secret-y, no? That doesn't mean I won't be posting something as soon as I get home.
posting something as soon as I get home
IYKWIM.
You had some wine that evening and you gave me a passionate, tongue-rich kiss at midnight. An hour later we were making out on your couch. Eventually you said you needed to go to bed and asked me to help you.
In your bedroom you took off everything but your panties and bra and we kissed some more. After a while the bra came off and I kissed your breasts. You got into bed and said good night, but your hand guided mine to your panties. I let it explore there, then I kissed you good night and drove home.
The next day you said you couldn't remember the last part of the evening. I'll remember it for a long time.
Nice, but shoo! Megan's site needs smut, not ours. Go post it over there.
I tried to but it wouldn't let me.
Posting there doesn't work. Here's the one it wouldn't take:
Valentines Day
---
Valentines was the first time. All our friends thought we just didn't like each other. It was much, much worse than that.
I hadn't known sex could be so violent, but we never tried to harm. We broke things. Furniture, showerheads, glass, a finger once. I needed stitches when we rolled off your coffee table.
Sometimes when we were shouting, we were really shouting at each other. No words though. We needed enemies, so we made them of each other.
I never had a real conversation with you.
Sometimes the bruises lasted weeks and weeks.
Shoot. I think Bill Clinton is working on it, but I can't fix it. Thanks for smut, though.
I wonder if it's a problem with a particular browser. Would it be okay if someone else tried cutting and pasting your smut, Messrs. Presidents?
Megan's site drives home the fact that my life has not been nearly smutty enough, and this is a cause of regret. Before my kids head off to college, I think the one and only piece of advice that I'll give them is to not be afraid to be smutty. Hell, they're in college -- hit it with everyone you can. Oh, and wrap it up.
40: smut, like most things in life, takes practice. I was pretty good at teh smut in college, now that I'm 40, I'm great. Don't give up your right to smut! There is still time!
She would only call when she was drunk, and pretend not to see me otherwise. It's not that she was popular, just that she was ashamed of her lust. She'd grab hold and run me backwards into the couch, tear her clothes while she took them off (she had an hourglass figure, but far from skinny), leave bite marks. She dressed indifferently (t-shirts and cardigans), used rose water for perfume, closed her eyes and pulled her head back at the slightest touch. Then she'd play records from a collection of blues 78s she had somehow come into.
she had somehow come into
Yeah, I don't know how that would work either. Must have made for some sticky needles on your Victrola, though.
My fellow presidents, I apologise sincerely for the trouble I have caused you. In many cases your shorts are just slightly too long. Trim a few characters here and there and you'll be under the limit. The site will now tell you when you're over the limit. If you'd like to correspond the email is smutshorts at gmail, but I must warn you that with Hillary on the campaign trail and the au pair due any minute now I may be otherwise engaged for some time. If you email me title, pseudonym, and short I'll do my best to get your short on the site when I'm free.
Yours sincerely,
Bill
Those comments are too long? Bill, you need to rethink shortness.
I'm right there with 40. I told the Ugly Naked Guy once that I would encourage Rory to get far more experience than I'd had before she settles down. He was disturbed.
I am also right there with 41 -- it's never too late to follow your bliss!
I don't know about telling the younguns to go wild. I wish I had known to watch for and avoid people crazier than I was or meaner than I was.
I wish I had known to watch for and avoid people crazier than I was or meaner than I was.
For some of us doing that would be neither easy nor helpful.
It's a hard balance to strike. On one level, I kind of wish I'd done some more screwing around when younger. On another, I wouldn't want to have been screwing around except with kind people I liked, and I'm not thinking of a lot of opportunities I passed up. I probably should have just gotten out of the house more.
I wish I had gotten a little bit more from a few more people. But it's all good.
Regrets! I've had a few! Doo da da dee ...
fuck, it's one of those chanson Valentine's Days.
47: Absolutely, but there is a wide and gaping chasm between Girls Gone Wild and paralytically uptight. I'd just like to steer my kid a little bit away from the latter.
Ben, choosing the length is bit like negotiating nuclear disarmament. You have to choose some limit but it is more or less arbitrary what limit you choose. This is partly our fault for providing such a terrible interface (which is improved now, but could be better yet) but we do want to encourage contributors to cut to the chase, as it were. 500 words can stretch quite far, as our posters have demonstrated.
Yours sincerely,
Bill
49: Actually, yeah, I can only think of two opportunities that I passed up and genuinely wish I hadn't. And one of those wasn't even really an opportunity passed up so much as an opportunity that was squashed by timing and circumstance. I suppose I mostly wish I'd had the confidence to get out more so I could pass up more opportunities.
47: Some of the best experiences I ever had were with people crazier and meaner than I was. Or crazier, at any rate. The rest of the relationship was psychically damaging, sure, but that's character-building.
Agreed with 54, except that said experiences were best as just that -- limited-duration experiences rather than actual ongoing relationships. (Not that I was always successful at that part, but.)
46:
I am also right there with 41 -- it's never too late to follow your bliss!
My god, you people, you'd think you're dead at 40 or something. It's really pathetic.
"you people" refers only to the poster of 46 and 41?
Uh, ostensibly. But to the general sense that there's no vibrant sex life after 35 or 40. Reading quickly, I hear talk of regrets from 30-somethings who feel they didn't get it on quite enough.
58 should sign itself.
I got the sense that the complaint was not that there wouldn't be enough booty in the days to come, just that the days of excitingly random booty had passed into the realm of exclusivity, which favors quantity and quality, just not the frissons of error and surprise.
60: I had to read this a few times, the adjectives not quite matching up for me (quantity and quality are exciting, random is not so much).
But right, you're talking about monogamous couples. And 41 and 40, and 46 above were saying that the smut is suffering a slow death, but there was still time. Perhaps I overinterpreted to think that had something to do with age; so I was saying that age has nothing to do with it.
57:
I can't speak for 40 or 41, but 46 was saying: gosh, there were things I missed out on in my youth, but age doesn't prevent me from embracing life to the fullest now. I'm not sure how you read "it's never too late" as "you'd think you're dead at 40 or something."
My thinking was essentially that I might have spared myself alot of grief if I'd been a little more comfortable with myself and the idea of smut when I was young. I don't regret so much that I "didn't get it on enough" as that I was so afraid of getting it on.
Maybe you find that "pathetic." I'm not sure why it's necessary, though, for you to condemn another person's personal regrets as pathetic.
For a while I had a faint suspicion that Di was someone I knew from way back (various biographical details were consistent with her being this person). Then Di wrote something about herself that revealed that she was not, in fact, the person I knew. As long as I was under the misapprehension they were the same person, I used to regret not having gotten it on with Di.
Di's awfully cute, KR. You could, additionally, regret not having gotten it on with Di.
My god, you people, you'd think you're dead at 40 or something. It's really pathetic.
In fact, Di has suggested that I am old as dirt at 40. The "what do people your age do since they no longer have sex" questions get a little tiresome from her.
Aw, where were you guys back when I was an awkward youngster with low self-esteem?
KR -- we can mutually regret never having had the opportunity to regret not getting it on, or something like that.
AWB, you are awfully cute yourself, for that matter. Thanks for the compliment.
Will, I wasn't talking about people over 40 generally -- just you. You are special that way.
Aw. Thank you Di.
I regret not being able to go to the Russian Baths with AWB and Bave.
where were you guys back when I was an awkward youngster with low self-esteem?
I think I was still an awkward youngster with a chip on his shoulder and a tormenting sense that he needed to prove something.
Sometimes I wonder how much I've evolved since then.
I need a Bath so fucking bad right now. Come up next week and we'll go, Will!
I was thinking this morning that what people mean when they say they wish they'd done this or that while younger is not "Oh crap I'm old and unfuckable now" but something more like, "Man, I wish I'd taken advantage of the passion and folly and openmindedness of youth." That is, a lot of the people I've met who have serious regrets in that direction are people who endured loveless marriages for too long and missed opportunities they had for fun, loving relationships when younger, or people whose youthful pieties kept them from enjoying the sweets of young pointless sex. Young pointless sex isn't inherently better than other kinds, but it has particular qualities that more mature relationships lack.
My regrets, such as they are, come from the other direction, in that I was very good at exploiting my own youthful folly for the purpose of irresponsible sex with strangers, but now that I'm getting to the point in my life when I have a conscience and am somewhat pickier about the personality types I sleep with, I am trapped by my own addiction to pointless, fun sex that is getting harder and harder to convince people to have with me.
It's a life, anyhow. I'm not unhappy.
When I was young the world looked opener and brighter and less worrisome and more cheerful than it does now. I don't know if it's the world, the aging process, some kind of physiological change, or the actual complications of my actual life. If I could muster up the cheerfulness I'm sure I'd be dateable.
57: Jesus, Parsimon, I was being wistful about not having gotten around as much as I might have as a college kid, when I was doing that sort of thing. Not complaining about my currently monogamous sex life, which is ticking along nicely, thank you very much. Could you ratchet back the hair-trigger on calling people pathetic?
which is ticking along nicely, thank you very much.
No need to be modest, Lizard. We all know(*) that your sex life is not just "ticking along nicely" but daily showing you new heights of bliss, each pinnacle so grand as to be unthinkable the day before.
(*) because we've seen the video.
And, while I'm still being cross, calling people pathetic for having regrets about their past behavior is lousy whether or not they're basically happy people.
That was you, in that video, doing the thing with the cup?
calling people pathetic for having regrets about their past behavior
The very heart of liberalism.
Fuck. I messed that up. Quoted bit should have been: calling people pathetic for having regrets about their past behavior is lousy. And it still wouldn't have made sense.
FUCK!
75: While I haven't seen the video, can it really be described as anything involving 'new heights of bliss'?
79: Well played, you magnificent bastard, well played.
75: In the one I saw (which doesn't seem to be on youtube anymore) Buck did the thing with the cup, and LB lost her mind to his demented form of lust.
62: I was young. I don't regret so much that I "didn't get it on enough" as that I was so afraid of getting it on.
Maybe you find that "pathetic." I'm not sure why it's necessary, though, for you to condemn another person's personal regrets as pathetic.
Oh, hey, I just saw all this. I'm sorry for the "pathetic"! I am on a hair-trigger with respect to what I register as ageism, I guess. I keep thinking I hear strains of conversation that assume that being post-mid-30s or so means your sex life and your attractiveness phase is over. It drives me bananas, so if I think I hear people sanctioning that view by dissing themselves, I get cranky.
Sorry. God knows this late comment will drop into the mist.