At the Rodeo

Hey there cats and kittens! Here's another story for you. We promise to stop neglecting you in a couple of weeks! The holidays are upon us!!!
Til then!


The Shower (A True Story)
by Penny Kennedey

You tell everybody that if we want to shower, we should do it now. Since we have to wake up so early. I’m ready for mine, running on only three hours of sleep and a hard day in the cold.
I get my towel and go to the bathroom. You are sitting at the desk in the office just outside the bathroom door, working on something for tomorrow morning. We smile at each other before I close the door. The bathroom door has a wooden shutter in the center of it so you can see into it if you try hard enough.
I imagine you imagining me in the shower.
I take off my shirt. I step out of my pants. I unhook my bra and let it slip off.
I peer through the slit in the shutter. You are looking at the door that I am behind.
I imagine my naked silhouette from your side of the door. And how mesmerized you are.
I am careful when I take down my hair, my arms lifted above my head. I look at myself in the mirror, admiring my own round breasts. On my back, I know, are two purple scrapes. I touch the scab.
I look through the slit again. You are trying to work again but you realize that you’re being watched and turn around.
I turn on the water and step into the shower’s glass case. I know, because of that door, that you can hear the water pattering on the floor.
My muscles relax under the water.
I can’t stop thinking about you thinking about me.
I let the water pour over me. It is wonderful and warm.
I wish that you would sneak into the bathroom. You wait on the other side of the frosted glass door. You put your hand on the steamy glass. Your side is cold.
I touch the door leaving a dribbling handprint.
I can almost see your blue silhouette through the glass.
I soap my stomach and my legs. I wonder if you’re thinking about my wet thighs and arms. I can’t help but dream about your hands on me.
I try not to take too long in the shower with all of these boys in the house. I turn off the water and open the door.
You are there and, for a moment, you look at me. That body you’ve wanted glistening with water. You pull my dripping body into yours even though you are still wearing your dry clothes, the zipper of your jeans pressed against my crotch. And you start to kiss me. You kiss me like I’ve never been kissed, deep and warm and wet just like the shower. You nibble my bottom lip, then my neck.
I try to stay quiet since the door is so open. I know that everyone else could hear me. I breathe heavily.
You stop and we look at each other, almost surprised at ourselves. You run your fingertips from the curve of my breast to my hip. All I want to do is rip off your clothes. I want to rip you in half. I’m so ready to explode.
But we can’t do this where everyone can hear.
I push you off for a moment but keep you close.
“Later,” I whisper. “I promise.”
You nod even though you don’t want to.
You scuttle out of the bathroom. After I catch my breath, I towel off and put on my clothes.

When I really leave the bathroom, you are still at the desk. Then we bump into each other and I drop my panties on the floor. I run away, blushing.

Tree Hugger by Satellie Lee

The Smut Team decided early on that erotic fiction would be a staple of this publication and we are pleased to present our first installment! Hope you all enjoy.


Tree Hugger
by Satellite Lee.


I'm no hippy, but I always have loved the embrace of a tree. The tree alone may not fulfill my ravenous lust but, rather its presence adds greatly to my sexual fulfillment. I enjoy the gnarled, arthritic branches and wispy tendrils of a willow tree, a chaste canopy for my filthy secrets, my bloodlust.
I led you to the epic willow in your old back yard. The crunching of leaves beneath us and breathing the autumnal air made my breath staccato with excitement as I pressed myself against your painfully hard erection, its force creating a tent-like protrusion through your corduroy trousers. The dusky sun was fluttering over us, casting strobe-like shadows through the branches. You ripped my dress, chiffon at my ankles, while keeping your clothes on.
My back became raw with the repetitive scraping of chipping bark as I kissed you, your mouth sweet and sharp like brandy. Your lips two swollen leeches ready to usurp and slurp my cunt until I squirmed and moaned and demanded you take me. I felt my stilettos sinking into cool, thick moss amidst twisted roots. Without looking behind me, I explored the old trunk with my fingers and tore a sharp piece of bark off -- rough on one side, slimy on the other. I put it in your mouth. You were at first perplexed, but ignored it through passion and soon, it sat like a lozenge between your gum and cheek, infusing our kisses with the taste of firewood. My writhing shoulder blades chipped away at the bark, pieces clumsily raining upon us as you thrust into me, harder and harder, my cervix tender, pounded with the reverb of my back against the tree. My head was hitting the trunk so hard, but I didn't care. My hair stuck to the jagged surface. It only added to the sensory bliss I was experiencing.
You managed to tear a willow vine off a low branch. You knew what I wanted. You gagged me with the vine, forcing it into my mouth while I played coy like a horse reluctantly biting its bit. You walked around the tree a few times, meticulously, tying me to the tree while gagging me with this leafy vine. The crispy dry leaves made me cough, but the fresh and succulent vine shaft was delightful to taste and bite on. Then you came at me like a rabid dog, a sick and knowing look peering out from your brooding brow. Back for more. My body shook with pleasure before you even touched me. You loved to torture me-- slowly creeping one inch in ... two inches ... teasing with circular motions around my opening ... pull it out, repeat, BAM five more inches. It hit me so hard I let out an abstract vocal noise I had no intention of making.
I came so hard, I bit down and liberated my mouth from the vine's boa constrictor-like grip. I yelped and slowly sank to the ground, a faint trail of blood following me down the trunk. You stood there, proudly looking down at me. You finally knelt at my side and together we lay down in the moss, leaves in my hair, twigs tucked in your suspenders.

Reader Write-In

Hey boys and girls,

We're going to start a feature here at the blog that is participatory. This is the Write-In Answer where you answer OUR questions. Send your answer to smutmonthly@gmail.com and we will publish our favs on the blog. Please make sure they are under 100 words so we can read them all!

This month's question is:

Where's the craziest place you've had sex?

Give us your answers!

Peace,

Sarah

First SmutPost EVER!

Well hello boys and girls!

I'd just like to take this opportunity to talk about what we at Smut Monthly would like to achieve.  Basically, we think that sex is good and we'd like to spread the love (safely, of course). We're going to have a couple of standard features each month such as our 'At the Rodeo' sex fiction, a photo spread that everyone can enjoy, our sex toy of the month segment, and Smut Q&A where you send in your smutty questions and our panel of certified SmutBoys and SmutGirls from all walks of life answer your questions!  Also, every issue will contain articles about everything from what kind of underwear to wear on a date to buying your first vibrator!  I'd also like to take a moment and ask you all to send in any sex questions to TalkSmut@gmail.com. You can leave us your name and age if you want, or it could be totally confidential. Your privacy will be totally respected at Smut Monthly.  We'd like to get started on our very first issue as soon as possible, so send in your questions!  You can also join our Smut Monthly Facebook group, we're happy to have you!  If you have any erotic fiction that you may want published in Smut or if you have any ideas, you can contact us at SmutMonthly@gmail.com.

See you around!

XOXO

Samantha

SmutGirl