Some Like It Hot

Some Like It Hot

"Some Like It Hot" originally appeared in Playing With Fire. Marina St. Claire said, In "Alison Tyler's own 'Some Like It Hot' - She likes a good boy and a bad boy. Someone's gonna get burned."

Excerpt:
You get heat in the summer time. You get heat in front of a blazing fire. You get heat when the furnace breaks with the knob stuck in the ON position. And you get heat when the two boys you’re dating show up at the same time, and the same place.

Although not the type of inferno you might expect.

Because first there was Jarred, with his tousled good looks, and his full-lipped mouth—a Cupid’s mouth, a girl’s mouth. When we met, he gazed at me as if I’d answered every dream, every prayer, every fantasy he’d ever had. How could I turn down a look so sweet? How could I deny the request in his gray-blue eyes, the destiny he said that only I could fulfill?

And then there was Marlon, with his dark hair, and his black eyes, and the way he confessed the mind games he played on the girls he dated, making me think that I was different. Making me feel like a partner in crime. Marlon’s specialty was twisting and turning every subtle emotion until he got what he wanted. His looks didn’t hurt, either. Ever embracing the dark, he made a uniform out of black jeans, black jackets, black long-sleeved shirts still hot from the iron.

Some, as they say, like it hot.


By: Alison Tyler
Photo: Riendo

In A Handbasket

In A Handbasket

"In a Handbasket" was featured in BWE2010, edited by Violet Blue. Ashley Lister said, "Alison Tyler’s “In a Handbasket” is a witty tale of ostensibly mismatched lovers finally finding
each other."


“Why do you think we’re going to hell?” I asked innocently as we walked away.

“It might have something to do with your shirt,” Caleb said, kindly.

I looked down. I was wearing one of my favorite tees. I’d forgotten completely. The tight-fitting baby-doll white one with SINNER in bold red across my small breasts.

“But you’re not wearing a SINNER shirt,” I pointed out.

Caleb grinned at me. “Wouldn’t fit.”

"What fellowship hath light with darkness?" the preacher’s voice sailed after us.

“I was wondering when he’d get there,” Caleb sighed. I looked up at him, as I always was doing. Up and up and up. “You know, 2 Corinthians has got fuck all to do with interracial relationships. It’s about believers and non-believers.”

My eyes widened. “Which are you?” Religion had never come up with us before. We’d talked politics. We’d talked favorite TV shows from the 80s. And which band was better, Parliament or Three Dog Night. But religion? Not on our agenda, until he said the words:

“A believer.”

I swallowed hard, but then Caleb turned me around so that I could see our reflection in the window of Vagrants.

“You can’t be a lapsed Catholic without first being a practicing Catholic. I know my Scripture.”

“But you said—“

“Now, I’m a believer in what you and I could do together.”

“Do?” my heart hammered in my chest.

“You know…” his big hands tracing my shoulders, then down to my arms, so that his flesh touched mine. “What fellowship hath light with darkness?” he murmured in my ear. We looked good together. No doubt about it. And I was wet, at his touch and at his words.

Once again, I thought I understood. Not why we were going to hell, but why we were getting those looks. Because it was difficult to look at us and not imagine how we might fuck, how Caleb might toss me up in the air, or pin me against the wall, like a butterfly for his collection. From the expression on Caleb’s face, he seemed to be thinking the exact same thing.

“We could make it work,” he said, and his huge hands wandered over my chest, thumb tracing the letters. Slow on the S-I-N, making my nipples harden instantly.

By Alison Tyler
Photo: Riendo

Like A Girl

Like A Girl

When Ivy's dominant boyfriend Logan asks her to dress in drag, she does her best to be the boy he's always wanted. But somehow his assistant, Caleb, dressed in drag as a girl, manages to top her best efforts.

This dirty story originally appeared in the kinky collection Crossdressing.

Excerpt:
My breath caught. Each time Logan’s hand pumped my cock, he pressed the base of the toy back against my clit. And each time I felt that connection, I thought I would climax. He didn’t stop. He didn’t turn or say a word. He kept going, pausing only to add a bit more spit to his palm, so that I felt he was greasing me.

Caleb froze. I’m sure something flippant was on the tip of his tongue, but maybe he caught a look at Logan’s face, and that stopped him. He was able to shut the door behind him, and then he stood totally still, and I knew he was waiting for instructions.

“You’re going to come for me, boy?” Logan murmured, crooning to me, but teasing somehow. Taunting me for dressing like this in the first place. He’d told me to buy an outfit for Cal. He hadn’t told me to dress up myself.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Then come.”

My knees would have buckled if Logan hadn’t used one hand to pin my shoulder against the wall, holding me in place easily as the shudders worked through me. The orgasm was almost frighteningly intense. Embarrassingly so, as I was being watched fiercely by the two men in my life. And then it was over, and Logan let me go, and I hiked up my jeans and sank down to the floor, letting the wall support me now.

“You even come like a girl,” Logan said as he poured himself a fresh drink.

I didn’t answer that. I didn’t have anything to say.


By: Alison Tyler
Photo: riendo

Underneath

Underneath

This 2700-word short story originally appeared in Zane's lesbian collection Purple Panties. The piece focuses on panties, punishment, and the perfect type of penance.

Excerpt:
“I’m not walking naked down the hall,” I heard myself tell her, taking a stand. It was a test. Would she pass? Would I?

Doreen shook her head. “Here I am, trying to help out a poor girl in need, and all I’m getting is lip.”

She was towering over me in seconds, dragging me by the ear to the wooden bench in front of the showers. Then she sat down and hauled me over her lap and her hand came down in a series of supremely stinging slaps, blows that had me squirming and kicking from the start.

I’d been fantasizing about being spanked for longer than I could remember, but I’d had no idea of what the actual pain involved might be. The pain, and of course, the pleasure. Because both came together. I could hardly wrap my mind around the fact that this gorgeous woman whom I’d never even been formally introduced to was now heating my curvaceous hind end. But she was, talking darkly as she spanked me, “Bad girl needs a bit of a tune-up, I’d say. Lose some of that haughty attitude. Next time I’m going to send you out to cut your own switch,” and I almost came right then.

Doreen shoved me off her lap.

“Now,” she said, “I’d suggest you follow me to my room.


By: Alison Tyler
Photo: Riendo

Girls Are A Nuisance

Girls Are A Nuisance


"Girls are a Nuisance," by Alison Tyler, lifts its title from a Raymond Chandler story called "Pearls Are a Nuisance." The short story originally appeared in 2001 in Noirotica 3, edited by the awesome Thomas S. Roche, and featuring stories by writers including M. Christian, Bill Brent, Michelle Tea, Thea Hillman, and Kate Bornstein. The characters first appeared in a novel Tyler wrote for Masquerade, called "Dial L for Loveless."

Excerpt:
“What are you going to do?” I asked. “Fuck me better?”

“Such a dirty mouth,” he sneered. “You talk to your mother with that mouth?”

“I sucked your cock with this mouth,” I reminded him, and he slapped me, hard enough to send me back onto the couch. Without changing his expression, he reached for me again and quick-stepped me to the torture wall. I was bound before I truly knew what was happening. Russell left me alone long enough to go back to the kitchen for scissors, and while I cussed him out, he cut my robe off. The faded blue plaid hung in tatters from my naked body…

“You’re still amazing,” he said, stepping back to appreciate me. “You’ve got the most gorgeous ass.”

I stayed quiet, listening as he rummaged through the stand of weapons. I heard the wood and bone clacking together, and then heard him grunt as he found what he was looking for. It was a bamboo cane. I knew the instant it connected with my skin. He hit me once, as a way of introduction, and then let a series of blows rain down on my ass and thighs. The power behind the strokes left me breathless.

Sandrine had been a capable dom. Russell was born with the hot wire of a sadist alive in his soul.

“Feel that?” he asked, stopping for a second to press his palm against my heated flesh. “Waking up yet?”

I didn’t respond. My mind was reeling.

Note: This 2400 word story contains BDSM, caning, and more kinky concepts. Adults only!


By: Alison Tyler
Photo: Riendo

Prego

Prego


Prego (a 2200-word story) originally appeared in the collection of oral sex stories, "Tasting Him." In this story, a jar of pasta sauce becomes an unwitting (although quite willing) partner in a couple's kitchen interlude.

***

Alison Tyler's “Prego” is one of my favorite, favorite stories - it just resonated with me and I think of it often too. Funny how a story can get under your skin like that, huh?
—Neve Black

My unquestioned favorite tale in this collection is Alison Tyler’s “Prego.” Although the protagonists are a long-established couple, it still manages to be outrageously spontaneous and intensely erotic… the lure of Jackson’s tomato-marinated cock is irresistible.
—Lisabet Sarai, Erotica Revealed, in a review of Tasting Him




By Alison Tyler
Photo: Riendo

The Art of Darkness

The Art Of Darkness

"The Art of Darkness" has appeared in the collection "Yes, Sir."

Lucrezia Magazine said: "Yes, Sir opens with Alison Tyler’s story The Art of Darkness. Her main character Greer, finally admits her fears to her Dom, Killian, and in his own kinky, dominant way pushes her to overcome them."

Excerpt:
When Killian had first suggested a blindfold, I’d balked. Worse than that, I’d safeworded, to his total shock. “Jasmine,” I’d said quickly.

“What did you say?”

“Jasmine.Jasmine.Jasmine.” The words were strung together in my haste.

“You do everything else, Greer,” he murmured, surprised at my instantaneous and—in his view—negative response. “You willingly wear the cuffs, the collar, the chastity belt. You bend over for my cock any time. Anywhere. Why won’t you wear a blindfold?”

I shrugged, unwilling to say, while he continued.

“That’s practically vanilla sex. Women who read Ladies’ Home Journal use blindfolds.”

I wondered where he got that last bit of information. He didn’t know any women who read Ladies’ Home Journal. But I understood his point. Blindfolds were almost comically acceptable now. I could have walked into any one of my friends’ apartments and found one tucked in a dresser drawer. Who wouldn’t wear a blindfold?

That was simple: me.

“You’ve let me drip wax on you, let me use anal beads the size of walnuts. We own a crop, a flogger, a studded paddle, and a cane. What’s up with a blindfold?”

I hadn’t wanted to admit the truth right away. What if he thought I was some sort of freak? But Killian simply wouldn’t let go of the concept.


By Alison Tyler
Photo: Riendo

The 20-min Rule

The 20 Min Rule

An actress turned masseuse no longer believes the lies L.A. whispers on a daily basis. Until she runs into an avant-garde client who turns the table (the massage table, that is) around.

Previously published in Radclyffe's Road Games (Erotic Interludes).

Jeremy Edwards said: "I love your "20-Minute Rule"--so sweet and delicious!"


Excerpt:
To my great delight, she chattered throughout the entire massage. It was as if she’d never had a massage before, or as if she were simply getting a rubdown from a good friend. She didn’t seem to want to relax in the slightest, more concerned with helping me to do my job well. When I lifted her hand in mine, she raised her whole arm for me, and I had to tell her, “No, let me do the work. Let me position you,” and gently shake the limb until she let loose. And when I rubbed the palm of her hand, caressing and soothing, she tried to return the favor, her thumb pressing back into my own palm, sending a wash of heat cresting over me.

Maybe she was stressed, but my fingers didn’t feel it. There were no knots to discover in her back, no tight spots to slide away. Regardless, I gave her my best work, and she cooed and sighed in between discussion of her art and her travels, but as far as I could tell, she was as easygoing as a house cat whose sole job is to find the best sunbeam to sleep in.


By Alison Tyler
Photo: Riendo

Rubbernecking

Rubbernecking


Alison Tyler, with "Rubbernecking," shows off her talents as a writer by teasing the reader with a rubberotic display of discovery and exhibitionism. "Rubbernecking" is one of those cheeky stories that keeps the reader smiling until the last sentence. — Ashley Lister

Excerpt:
I enjoyed the lingerie, the pretty frilly items. I liked to look at the sex toys, the cuffs and blindfolds, gags, paddles, and masks. But the rubber items, those were the ones that stretched over my day, snapping through my mind when I least expected it. Anything, everything, could take me back to those windows.

The lemon-yellow dishwashing gloves resting innocently on the stainless steel sink in the break room would make me think of elbow-length black rubber gloves I’d seen pinned to a wall in that window. A ball of multicolored rubber bands residing lazily on a coworker’s desk would remind me of a red rubber ball gag strapped to the face of an unseeing mannequin. The burnt-licorice scent of tires as I walked through the parking garage would make me want to press my nose to the window shielding the displays and see if I could inhale the scent through that wall of glass. The visions built within me, until I could hardly each day wait to get back home, to my empty apartment, to my world of privacy.

Keys thrown onto the coffee table.

Pencil skirt discarded on the way down the hall.

A shoe here.

A shoe there.

A rabid rush to the center of the mattress, to the safety of my own fantasy world.

ADULTS ONLY! Fetish, erotica, sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism, and other kinky attributes come into play in this frisky piece.



By Alison Tyler
Photo: Riendo

The ESP Affair

The ESP Affair


DESCRIPTION: Connie Morris is an elementary school teacher with an unhappy marriage and a penchant for romance novels. When a nightly series of intense dream fantasies unexplainably implicate Connie in adultery, Connie's waking life begins to unravel. As mysterious precognitive visions and hallucinations plague her days, Connie is forced to question her own sanity. Ultimately, Connie discovers the potential of her own extraordinary psychic powers, hidden dormant inside her.

EXCERPT:
Connie sprawled naked on a tropical beach, her long-limbed body partially submerged in the warm, aqua water. Sunlight shone brilliantly on the hot golden sand, making the beach sparkle as if dusted with slivers of pure diamonds. Palm trees bent lazily in the summer breeze, their dark emerald fronds dipping in a silent dance.

He was with her. His strong arms surrounded her slender waist, pulling her into a tight embrace. She could feel his hard muscled body, demanding as it pressed against her own from behind. One of his hands trailed down her concave belly, his fingers tickling her skin. With finesse, he slid his hand between her supple thighs, then carefully ran his fingertips up and down. With each touch—and each thrust—he brought her closer to that tantalizing finish line, a magical place where they would both melt together into the passion of sizzling summer bliss.

Oh, yes, she had almost reached it.

“Connie—you done in there?”

If only Ron would shut up.


Note: ADULTS ONLY, please. Content is racy.


By: Alison Tyler
Photo: Riendo

Skirting The Issue

Skirting The Issue


Skirting the Issue features a trio of dirty stories all based on a common theme: The Catholic Schoolgirl Skirt. Erotic writers Sophia Valenti, Sommer Marsden, and Alison Tyler have each contributed one naughty tale to the mini-anthology.

One reader says: "I love the whole thing!"

18 and over only, please. And beware: This collection includes spanking, anal sex, menage, girl-girl, bondage, voyeurism, and a whole lot of filthy fun.


By: Alison Tyler
Photo: Riendo