Masey asked, “Do you think she’d mind?”
Josh shrugged. “Dunno. She’s pretty cool about stuff like that…”
Masey grinned and said, “But I guess she’d be kind of stunned if you did
something like that now?”Again, there was a few seconds of silence. Josh moved around a bit on the
settee, apparently making himself more comfortable. Then he said, speaking slowly, “I guess what she doesn’t know wouldn’t hurt her…”
Read “Stag Night” by Sebastian Wallace
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I started a new blog. Check it out and please please please contribute.
Repost from old blog, 8/25/2008
(above pic of “Seb” stolen from the web archive of his site)
Sebastian Wallace is, without a doubt, my favorite erotic story author on the web. He’s also the most infuriating, though maybe I just haven’t followed enough web authors to realize how generally infuriating they all are. For if there is one thing with Seb Wallace that you can count on, it’s that he can’t be counted upon. For every beautifully-designed website that he puts up, packed with hot stories and fantasy-enhancing “pictures” of his characters and even tasty bits of info on the process behind each story and its reception, you can be sure that the entire site will be defunct in about a year or so. Even more certain is that Seb will reappear with another website in a year or so, this one no doubt even more well-designed than the last, and just as ephemeral.
That’s not to say that you can’t read his stuff on the web at all times – it’s archived on several different sites (see below for the rundown). He deals in straight men, much like some other authors with whom you’re familiar. What’s so singular about Seb’s stories is the exacting and convoluted way his characters find themselves in sexual situations with other men (their roommates, brothers, fathers). The roommate wants to shock his girlfriend by having her catch him and his mate having sex, but the playacting gets taken too far. When a heartbroken father reaches for his son in his sleep, it doesn’t seem right to the son not to let his poor dad have some pleasure. Etc. Seb’s characters seem to have sex for every reason except that they want to have sex with one another. I’ve never read anything quite like them.
Typically his stories are told in the first person from the perspective of the author, Sebastian Wallace, with some sketchy/dubious biographical details thrown in. Not that Seb the Author ever claims that his stories are nonfiction. I can’t even say I’m all that interested in the line he skirts between fact and fiction, but it’s tempting look at the content of his stories for clues to the love/hate relationship he seems to have with his writing. I mean, who the hell knows? He might simply not have the time for a consistent output of fuck stories, and that’s fine. I’m not complaining. So much.
I hope he writes more soon. His last batch was pretty fabulous. And honestly, Seb’s website was the whole inspiration for my own, so if you like my stories you have him to thank. Drop him a line, whydontcha (sebastian_wallace@yahoo.co.uk), and tell him to write some more goddamn stories while you’re at it.
——–
Thanks to RobbyG, who linked me to this nice compendium of Seb’s work: http://www.screeve.org/Sebastian-Wallace.html. You can also find them on Nifty.
Here is a list of my favorites, but truthfully they are always changing:
Ben Pays Up- a rimming story
Tom Stays Over- sister’s boyfriend, self-suck, nice butt with a finger in it
Stag Night – groom & best man, with nice emotional detailing at the end
Desperate Daniel – Seb the martyr gives it up for a horny dorm mate. I think I might have stolen from this story, specifically the part where the one guy is smelling pussy on the other guy’s cock (Wallace is big on smells), but I can’t remember where or what I used it in.
My job sent me to L.A. for three days this week for a conference. I stayed at a hostel in Venice Beach and I could see the ocean from my window. Plus there were all these young international men getting shit-faced and walking around in their underwear.
5 Comments“You never knew what?”
“That it was…so…”
“Come on, kiddo, don’t be shy now, use your words!”
This was getting easier. “That your dick was so big.”
“Cock,” he said. “When it’s as big as mine is, it’s a cock not a dick.”
He chuckled. He had to know what that word did to me. “You never knew my cock was nine inches?”
Read “Seducing My Stepfather” by Zane McGuire
3 CommentsRepost from old blog, 11/25/2006
Incest is so fucking hot! Well, in theory, anyway.
In actuality incest is pretty sad and pathetic, but that doesn’t stop it from being “one of the big players in our theater of desires,” to quote Alan Moore (who deftly dissected the incest fantasy in his fantastic graphic novel “Lost Girls”).
When, many years ago, a friend gave me an educational book called Coping with Incest that he’d stolen from his high school library, I got a jack-ass kind of kick from it. The book took incest very seriously, while I probably didn’t take the subject seriously enough. But looking again at the book, it still presents a strange and subversive conundrum. Namely: to profess the dangers and damages of incest to its audience, the authors were obliged to come up with a whole host of incest “situations” and then write them out. Which basically means that the book reads like a compendium of common incest fantasies, only drained of all lust and pleasure and with a heavy sense of disgust and foreboding in its place.
Of course I jerked off to it. But this was before I discovered “Handjobs” magazine; and re-reading it today, it leaves a lot to be desired:
Chip’s Story
Chip and his brother, Donald, are eleven and thirteen years old respectively. Donald has spent the weekend with their cousin, Howard, who is also thirteen. Donald is eager to show Chip what their cousin has taught him. He takes Chip into his bedroom and shows him how to masturbate. They are both excited and scared at how it makes them feel. What would happen if someone caught them?
“Chip’s Story” is presented as an example of healthy sexual experimentation, and it’s the only one I care to quote, cause the rest are pretty pathetic. Oh, okay, maybe one more:
Kyunghi’s Story
Captain Pham of the Los Angeles Police Department was one of the most feared policemen the force had ever hired. He received numerous honors, citations, and awards from the department and the city, but everyone knew he bent the law when it came to catching criminals. When Kyunghi was younger he had loved riding in his father’s patrol car.
…
Kyunghi tried not to make his father angry, and he obeyed him without question. Unfortunately, this allowed his father to sexually abuse him. At first his father said he would show Kyunghi how to be a policeman, and he handcuffed him and laughed while Kyunghi struggled to get loose. No one knew that Captain Pham later forced Kyunghi to have anal sex with him.
Like I said, not so hot, but when you’re young and have a good imagination, you can make good use of odd materials.
It’s weird to me to think that people actually wrote these stories. Sometimes, you come across an odd detail like this one in “Juanita’s Story,” which concerns Juanita’s grandfather taking her out to the romantic spot where he and her grandmother used to go. One thing leads to another, and of course:
He threw her to the ground and raped her amidst the singing birds.
Why the singing birds? What compelled the writer to add this strange detail? It blows my mind.
The book reminds me of the Christian “hell house” phenomenon, in which Christian youths produce elaborate haunted houses around Halloween that graphically depict situations such as rape, abortion, and pre-marital sex. There’s a wonderful documentary (called “Hell House”) that shows the fine line that gets crossed when one enacts a taboo or criminal situation for the purposes of condeming it. A young Christian DJ, in charge of the “rave room” that shows the dangers of club drugs, waxes excitedly about the possibilities of pimping out the fictional rave by procuring a water tank with a girl swimming in it.
He’s getting the opportunity to explore worldly temptations in a safe, Christian context. I’m not going to go so far and say the authors of Coping with Incest are doing the same thing, because the book is written for kids who are actually dealing with incestuous relationships, and by spelling out these situations they are doing everyone a service. But still, they are tapping into a very powerful fantasy that many people feel ashamed to confront.
6 Comments‘You know, it’s a damn shame that women don’t like sex as much as men,’ said Lee. ‘It would make life so much easier and more fun if they did.’
‘Well, either that or it ought to be better to get it off by yourself,’ Ray answered, ‘I don’t know about you, but just beatin’ off doesn’t make it for me.’
‘You’re right,’ said Lee, ‘doing it alone just isn’t the same sensation.’
Read “Special Buddies” by cgard
3 CommentsRepost from old blog, 1/28/2008
Breath shallow, feet taking me to my destination, I would enter the warm light of the bookstore and duck the imagined glare of the clerk. I might browse the science fiction section for a minute, but inevitably, I’d go to where I really wanted to be: the “Relationships” section.
There is one of these in every chain bookstore in every mall in America, so perhaps, right this instant, there is a pre-teen boy whose parents are shopping at K-mart, oblivious, while he leafs through the gauzy, vanilla-flavored naked bodies pictured in The New Kama Sutra, the book jacket worn and torn at the edges – a book for browsing only, a book that nobody buys.
I had discovered the motherload – over ten paperback volumes of the Letters to Penthouse anthology, some of which, crucially, contained a section of stories titled “Boy Meets Boy.”
I would read them crouched down low, my knees and ankles beginning to get sore, my palms sweaty, my quivering little hard-on pressing against the inside of my jeans, one eye always on the lookout. I didn’t know if I could get in trouble for looking at this stuff and I didn’t want to find out. Just the act of reading it was shameful enough.
On my second or third trip, I noticed the book displays at the entrance to the store, placed right at the threshold, so that one could pick up a book and browse it while standing, technically, outside of the store.
As much as I wanted to take home my favorite volume of Letters to Penthouse and get to understand it on a more intimate level, purchasing it was not an option. That would mean owning up to my desires, even if it were only to an anonymous Waldenbooks clerk.
Instead, I experimented with covertly carrying it around, inching ever closer to those exterior book displays. Soon I was standing outside of the store, the book still clutched in my hand. No alarms were going off. Nobody was watching me. Technically, I reasoned, I was already stealing, so why not just take a few more steps, down the hall, out of the mall, to my car where I’d be safe and free and full of the promise of porn.
I walked away without consequence. I did it on subsequent trips, again and again, until I had about five volumes of the series. I never got caught. I would walk through the mall with my heart racing and the paperback cupped in my sweaty palm, tucked underneath my sweatshirt – a pervert, a thief, a homo at the mercy of his dirty little secret.
3 CommentsThat’s when Backwoods is supposed to be released. From what I’ve seen release dates are subject to change, but I’m just glad to have some sort of anchor, something to remind me that this is really going to happen, my book is going to be published.
Unless the whole thing is an April Fools joke.
Michael Kirwan has one more illustration to do for me, plus he’s going to redraw the map that goes at the beginning so it fits with the style. We’ve started talking about what we want for the cover. All that, plus the finished manuscript, has to be ready to go by the end of the year. Then come Spring I’ll have a book. Whaddya know.
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