Heterosexual

This is the audio version of T. C. Gardstein's popular poetry collection. The author reads the entire collection in a 20-minute performance. 

T. C.'s poetry readings have been described as, "...confident and smooth, yet vivacious and flirty," as well as, " ...HOT!"  And as for her writing: "...sexually charged..." with a "...unique and entertaining quality."

This audio file is a great memento of her performance you may have seen, or a great introduction to T. C.'s poetry. Download it today, load it onto your iPod, relax and enjoy your commute like never before.

This story is literature. This author may be the second coming of James Joyce. It is a wonder of erotic thought. Enjoy.

"The conversation they had was sweet and bookish and they lingered over it, and once he leaned in to her and lightly touched the sleeve of her coat while making a point, causing her to wonder about his hands and wish he didn’t have his winter gloves on. She liked to look at men’s hands and to think about men’s hands and about men playing music with their hands and building things with their hands and fixing things with their hands. She liked capable men who used their hands with an economy of movement and a clarity of purpose.

The first time he put his hand on her skin, she could feel that he was as roiled up by her as she was by him. That was drinking coffee together, after the second time they’d accidentally met. He touched her arm again, lightly again, but this time with his ungloved hand to her skin, and she knew that he’d thought about her since the last time they’d met.

Sometimes she thought about him, too. She took care not to do that unless she was alone because thinking about him filled her full of longing and need and she would have to lie on her side and softly run her thumb over and over her nipple, sliding the smooth cool of her bra against that tender swell. Often doing this while imagining it was his thumb that moved so gently and so intently was enough to propel her to a place of gasp and shudder and moan.

Once when she thought about him she wrote these words on a piece of paper:

your hands

your eyes

your mouth

your cock

o yes

Those words were so powerful that she was undone by them-- and was always undone by them-- whenever she looked at them.

Tina couldn't work up the courage to let Parker know she was interested. Sometimes girlfriends need to help each other out--especially when sex and co-workers are involved. Jill helps Tina overcome her nervousness, and then they both help Parker. As if he needed it.

A fantastic office quickie--you will be pleased.

"She thought about him as her hands roamed over her body, and she imagined it was his fingers inside her cunt. His name was Bob, as  boring and predictable as the reports they churned out every week, but she called him Parker because that was how he had first introduced himself to her a mere two weeks ago. Had it really been only two weeks? It seemed as though she had known him much longer. He had shaken her hand, his fingers strong and warm against her palm, his eyes intent on her face, and she had fallen into lust with a thud that could have been heard around the office. She was sure he had heard the sound, because he had half smiled at her sudden speechlessness.
    Surely that was nothing unusual for him. With those killer dark-fringed eyes and full lips, he could have had his pick of any number of women.
    And that was where her soapy masturbatory fantasies always came to end. If he could have his pick of any of the women who populated their small country of an office, how could she entice him into being with her?
    She had to do something. Something had to change."

~2400 words

   Over drinks after work, Angela's competitive side gets the better of her, and she challenges co-worker and mentor Sean to a friendly game to decide who has the better come-hither technique. She quickly discovers that Sean's talents extend beyond the professional, and tonight he's focusing them all on her.

Editor's note: I wanna work with THIS guy. Whew!

"He swiveled his stool until his knees bracketed hers. Heat poured off his body, pooling between them. Angela's throat constricted painfully. When she felt a warm touch on the back of her hand, she closed her eyes to keep from trembling.

"I would start slow," he went on, brushing one thumb lazily over her fingers. "I'd say hello, beautiful. Care to dance?" She could smell a hint of expensive cologne, or was it soap? It didn’t overwhelm; she’d needed to get real close to smell it at all, but now it eddied between them, in that warm space between his body and hers.

Angela really wanted to say something back, something wry or snappy, but she couldn't speak. The best she could do was open her eyes again, and stare at him, lips parted to remind her to breathe."

~3700 words

Want to read more from Viven Jackson? Her stories, "Unless," and "Negotiations" are very well-received.

18 is a great age to be. This is a trip back in time through Mimi's sexual education. Outdoors in the country,  with a grown man between her thighs, Mimi's first oral experience will remind you of the lustful power of youth.

"...Beau went down on Mimi. ...She was excited to finally be with him tonight—she had decided they would go all the way, if Beau wanted it. Mimi wanted it.
    The moon wasn’t full, but it helped light the way, at least for Mimi to see him remove her pants. She watched him, transfixed, as he kissed her stomach, licked it, traced a line down to the top of her panties, and stopped. He reached for her, and she lifted her hips while he pulled off her panties. His mustache tickled, and she watched him..."

~1300 words

Read about "Stuart and Mimi" here.

From T. C. Gardstein, this is a first for Paper Bag Press: our first erotic poetry collection. T. C.'s poetry performances have garnered attention in New York City, and we are proud to share her talent with you here. A sample:

The Poetry Prostitute

When my livelihood was once again outsourced,
it compelled me to plot a whole new course.

I was sick of being at the mercy
of this increasingly insane economy

while trying to achieve a break
as a writer on the make.

I needed to make an easy buck
yet knew I couldn’t sell a fuck.

What saved me from becoming destitute?
Turning into a poetry prostitute.

I hoped there might be some voyeurs
who were erotica connoisseurs.

So I ran some classifieds here and there
proposing to lay my sex life bare.

I would not write poems to order
but expose in verse my every border.

I would not focus on the customer’s desire
like a phone-sex girl through a 900 wire.

It was up to me what my getup would be--
my poetry was what would earn the fee. ...

***

The complete collection: 9 poems.

***

Have you been at one of T. C.'s performances? Please leave a comment.  Also, you can read an interview with T. C. here, and read about her story, "Sandwich Filling," here.

In the second installment of the Rites of Spring series, Gazelle's eyes are swimming with colors and tears, as she is running, the best Messenger of the Tribe, running through Men's Town. They are all there for her, hundreds, thousands of men.

Regina has just the thing to yank Heath out of his depression. But his attitude isn't making it easy. Figuring out how to get Heath to warm back up to her is the beginning of this summertime road trip.  Scandalous.

"An eighteen-wheeler crept up next to them, and Regina rolled her eyes.  It was so like Heath to linger in the passing lane.  The truck's cab pulled adjacent to their Jetta, and Regina could see the driver perfectly.  He was older, somewhere in his forties, with a weathered face and few days' growth of beard.  She knew that if he only turned his head slightly to the left, he would be looking down into their car.  This excited her, and she took a deep, quiet breath of satisfaction as her finger sped up slightly.

The truck driver glanced to his left, his brow creased as if he were wondering why the car in the passing lane was not actually passing.  His eyes drifted to the backseat and widened.  His lips parted as he took in the scene: Regina with her legs splayed open..."

~4600 words

"Love on the Side of the NJ Turnpike" received a 5-cherry review at Whipped Cream! Awesome!

He was on vacation, finding it all a bit unnerving and a mistake. Elena was having a good time on the dance floor. With him, Elena would have an even better time, she was sure. Maybe on the beach? On the dance floor? Somewhere else?

He's about to find out.

A blistering encounter in the tropics -- this one is a must-read.

"He was getting hard, and his kissing became more insistent.  She responded; her touch grew rougher, and he felt her sigh quietly as she kissed him.  He drew one of his hands up to her chest, and gently he cupped her breast in his hand.  He felt her nipple hardening, and he stroked it gently with his thumb, causing her breath to quiver.  Breaking their kiss, he moved his lips down her jaw line, then nibbled her neck while fondling her nipple.  He could tell she was losing control; her hands were moving faster over his back and she began to tear at his shirt.  With a moan she grabbed his ass with both hands and ground her hips into his.

“Let’s go somewhere,” he breathed into her neck.

“Where?”

“Anywhere.” "

~6,000 words

What would you do to pay the bills? What would you do to feel what you've always dreamed of feeling? What would you do to make your fantasy come true? Wish no longer, and find yourself on the Internet while still on your bed, performing for strangers.

A modern, wicked , full fantasy. Very, very full.

"John, it turns out, is a bit fixated on penetration. He is not, however, all that interested in intercourse. His kink is figuring out how much a woman can take. His favorite sexual experiences involve compliant, naked women who are willing to let him..."

~2100 words