What I’m Reading at Perverts Put Out 9/24 in SF

I am very pleased to be reading this coming weekend from my recent collection, Show Yourself To Me. at the Pr-Folsom Street Fair edition of Perverts Put Out!

Perverts Put Out! is San Francisco’s long-running pansexual performance series.  Join us for PPO!’s annual pre-Folsom-Fair blowout on September 24th. Doors open at 7pm. Reading starts at 8pm.

Celebrating the universe’s largest leather event, it’ll feature some truly perverted performances by Jen Cross, Gina DeVries, Daphne Gottlieb, Philip Huang, horehound stillpoint, and Xan West, presided over by your hosts Dr. Carol Queen and Simon Sheppard. Please don’t make us get down on our unworthy knees and beg!

At The Center for Sex and Culture in SF. 1349 Mission St. between 9th and 10th in San Francisco

I will be reading my story, “A Large Full Meal,” which centers two transmasculine tops. At it’s core, it’s about riding a wave of intense desire and endeavoring to be deeply respectful to a top who trusts you enough to bottom to you. It contains knife play, rough body play, and fisting. Here is a tiny taste. (As a heads up, this excerpt contains descriptions of knife play and rough body play.)

Knives get to me like nothing else. I’m one of those tops that likes to start with a knife and a wall, and go from there. To trap my prey, cornering him, until the wall is at his back and he is stuck facing my bulk and my knife. Because knives get me hard, instantly. There is this electric metal taste that seeps into my mouth, as adrenaline starts pumping in tune to the movements of the knife in my hand. We play that adrenaline together, and I find myself soaking up the steely scent of it, sliding my tongue along skin to taste it. 

So it is not surprising that he got to me, and I came face to face with the fiercest animal need I have ever experienced.  

A few months earlier, I had caught his eye at a sex club, but we both were busy at the time.  I grinned when I saw him in the hallway at the queer conference.  He was giving an impromptu lesson on cruising gay men to a couple of eager young trans fags. 

“It’s all about the body language,” he explained.  “See, in gay men’s community, touch is a primary mode of communication.  Say I think that guy is cute.” 

He raised his brows at me as I was walking slowly past him.  I turned slightly to catch his eye and cocked my head, pausing, eyeing his ass.   

“So I’d body up to him from behind, see?” 

And he did, slowly.  I could feel his breath on my skin. 

“And then I’d wait,” he said. 

I moved back slightly, completing the contact.  He wrapped his arms around my waist, settling in behind me, resting his chin on my shoulder.  Even from behind, I could tell his bulk was mostly muscle. 

“See how I waited for him to complete the contact before I wrapped my arms around him?  It’s all about the subtle signals.  Now I bet, if I trailed my hand along his arm, and tilted my head, he’d follow me.  We wouldn’t need to say a word.” 

He was right.  I followed him.  Into the single stall all gender bathroom, and locked the door.

I play hard. It is the only way to play. And I had a live one that night. A fellow top who, by the grace of the gods, had decided I was worthy. His strength was glorious, his power immense, and I was playing with someone who absolutely could take me physically if he chose. Our play was premised on his continual consent. There is nothing hotter than a faggot who owns his desires, especially desires that rarely get fulfilled.              

It began with touch. His large body against mine. My hands reaching around him and gripping the back of his neck. I was reading his response, his eyes. That’s when I knew he wanted to be under me.              

I pinned him to the wall and focused on pounding, on reaching into his skin to find the man underneath. This man with a wicked sense of humor, a twisted intelligent brain, and an incredible level of psychic and physical strength. I kept driving my body into his, grabbing him. I was determined to find him. With firm hands, with pounding fists, with skin grasping his. I wanted to learn him, know his body, devour him. He was no snack. He was a large full meal. All that strength and power, all that delicious desire. And the most jolting green eyes that just opened to me as if it were effortless.

I am excited to read this story; it’s a personal favorite.

Also, please save the date for a reading coming up next month. On Sunday October 16th from 2-4pm I will be reading my kinky queer smut at Feelmore 510 at 1703 Telegraph Avenue in Oakland, alongside Avery Cassell, BD Swain, and Sinclair Sexsmith.

Hope you have an amazing Folsom weekend. I hope to see you at PPO!

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