David E. Howerton… –You’re what I scream about–


–You’re what I scream about–

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Copyright © 2016 by David E. Howerton







Getting the Point… by Louie Crew


Getting the Point

Priapism is a potentially painful medical condition, in which the erect penis or clitoris does not return to its flaccid state, despite the absence of both physical and psychological stimulation, within four hours.

There are two types of priapism: low-flow and high-flow

80% to 90% of clinically presented priapisms are low flow disorders. Low-flow involves the blood not adequately returning to the body from the organ.

High-flow involves a short-circuit of the vascular system partway along the organ. Treatment is different for each type.

Priapism is considered a medical emergency, which should receive proper treatment by a qualified medical practitioner. Early treatment can be beneficial for a functional recovery.

The duration time of a normal erection before it is classifiable as priapism is still controversial. Ongoing penile erections for more than 6 hours can be classified as priapism.

The name comes from the Greek god Priapus, Πρίαπος, a fertility god often represented with a disproportionately large and permanent erection.


Louie Crew, an Alabama native, 75, is an emeritus professor at Rutgers and lives in East Orange, NJ, with Ernest Clay, his husband of 37 years.

As of January 2012, editors have published 2,165 of Crew’s poems and essays. Crew has edited special issues of College English and Margins. He has written four poetry volumes Sunspots (Lotus Press, Detroit, 1976) Midnight Lessons (Samisdat, 1987), Lutibelle’s Pew (Dragon Disks, 1990), and Queers! for Christ’s Sake! (Dragon Disks, 2003). You can follow his work at http://rci.rutgers.edu/~lcrew/pubs.html

Getting the Point was found by Louie Crew in Wikipedia at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Priapism.

See also http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Louie_Crew. The University of Michigan collects Crew’s papers.

Copyright © 2012 by Louie Crew


Romantic Songs… by Denise Falcone

Romantic Songs

       Amy and I met in front of the hotel where we were both living at the time. We were young then. She was a music student and I had a neat little business selling cocaine. She looked so cute in her tight black pants while gazing at my Bugatti.
       “Great car, huh?” she remarked when I nonchalantly moved to stand next to her.
       “Would you like to have a ride?”
       “This is your car?”
       “Now?” I said.
       I had a large white one bedroom that overlooked the cobblestoned square, where the intoxicating perfume from a row of old lindens drifted up on to my terrace. She had a faded closet-sized studio in the back, with a paint-chipped slanted ceiling. It had in it the smallest single bed and a piano. Books and stacks of music were piled in unruly columns on the chocolate-colored floor, and an image of Robert Redford cut from a magazine was taped to the wall.
       We must have come off as idiots in our attempt to push our lust aside with ridiculous small talk about things neither one of us could have cared less about. Who were we trying to kid? She ended up being the bold one as she unzipped her fly and sauntered over to the window to pull down the shade.
       Consummately enamored with Paris, she breathed her French as if she was trudging up a hill. She styled herself a gamine and let her mousy brown hair fall loose and long past her round shoulders.
       She was a wild little monkey. Instead of retreating to the bathroom to take care of herself like other women I knew, she would insert her diaphragm while lying on the bed. On her back with the sheets kicked to the floor, she’d smile and wink at me while I waited. Her pointed arched feet were like the tips of butterfly wings and I got so big and hard from staring into her pussy like that, I thought I would explode. Then she would offer me her ass.
       Although there was no love shared between us, I felt possessive enough to ask, “Why Robert Redford?”
       “Because he’s gorgeous, silly!”

       “Shouldn’t you have a picture of Beethoven up there instead?”

       Back then one could safely keep a small lucrative business such as mine. The city had other things to worry about. Its structures were collapsing and sleazy crime was everywhere. I wasn’t so impetuous to expect my luck to last, so it was no surprise when the big shots moved in to take advantage.
       I stepped off the elevator to hear her playing on my way down the hall. Instead of pausing at her door to listen, I impatiently rang the bell. Only hours remained till my return to South America.
       In place of the silky kimono she always wore in a way to suggest her nakedness underneath, she had on a skirt and a blouse. I saw her red espadrilles tied up her ankles and I wondered if she was going out. Was there someone new already?

       “Pablo,” she said with that frothy delight that still haunts me in my dreams sometimes, “I finished my piece and I want you to hear it.”
       In all the time we spent together, the tawny brown upright dominated the room, yet I had never asked her to play. I stretched out on the bed but the pillow I shoved behind my head kept on having to be adjusted. With perverse eyes, I watched the muscles in her back undulate from measure to measure while her hands glided up and down the keys.
       I recognized the theme of the Chopin Ballade immediately. She took hold of it with a passion that managed to touch my myopic soul, but by the time the music had accelerated and swelled to its climax, the air around us had changed. Her hair was pulled up in a chignon, and I bid farewell to our narrow erotic island.


Denise Falcone is a writer who lives in New York City. Her work has appeared in Blood Orange Review, Foliate Oak, J Journal, Why Vandalism?, Kerouac’s Dog, Perhaps I Am Wrong about The World, Antique Children, and others.

Copyright © 2012 by Denise Falcone


Sex Plan… by Sweet Cheeks

I wanted to spice up our love life. No, really it is our sex life I am concerned about. It is the same each and every time. I want to make him hot for me again. I want to make us hot for each other again. When we first dated we couldn’t take our eyes or hands off of each other. We had sex in the car or in public places. I don’t know when we stopped being young and having fun. However, it’s time to craft a plan to bring back sexual fun and desire.

I set my plan in motion on a Friday morning. While Carlos was in the bathroom taking his shower I went over to his blazer and placed a note in the pocket. I also turned on his cell phone. He always had his cell phone off at work and never bothered to check it anymore.

Since Carlos was still in the shower and I was still nude and very horny I slipped into the bathroom quietly. Noticing he was washing his hair most likely with his eyes closed, I stepped into the tub and knelt down.  It was so nice, his soft cock lay in my mouth and I sucked it as the water poured down on me. He almost jumped when he felt my tongue on him.

Startled, he smiled and said, “How long has it been?”

As he became hard I replied with my mouth full of his cock, “Too long.”

Soon I heard him groaning and yelling “Oh My God!” as he came in my mouth. We cleaned up, he got dressed for work and before he left he gave me a slow lingering kiss.

“Thank you for this morning, Alexandria. It has been far too long.”  His smile was wide as he grabbed his keys off of the kitchen counter, opened the door and closed it behind him. Outside he sighed, then continued smiling all the way to work.

As Carlos sat in his second meeting of the day he sighed. He still had another meeting, when would today be over and when would the weekend begin. He placed a hand into his blazer pocket searching for something to take his mind away from these thoughts. He felt a piece of paper folded up. Hmmm… I didn’t put this here did I? He slid forward and to the side a bit as he took out the paper to read it.

“Give your penis satisfaction, as you yell I am cumming!  Our orgasms happen at the same time, mine ripples through my pussy and I moan in ecstasy.” The Dominatrix Carlos coughed, almost choking. He curled up the paper stuffing it back into his pocket and grabbed his water bottle.

“Are you okay?”  Several co-workers asked.

Carlos cleared his throat and took one last sip of water. “I am okay, really. Please continue.”

He sounded so professional even to himself yet his insides were jumping and he could feel his cock was stiffening. He squirmed a bit in his seat trying to think about boring things until he got back to his office. Finally his body settled down, the meeting was over and he was able to get back to his office and sit down.  Instead of sitting down it was more like collapsing into his leather chair and letting out a big sigh at the same time.

He picked up his office phone and dialed home. It rang a couple of times and she finally answered. “Alexandria, what was the meaning of this?” He asked her with a hint of annoyance in his tone. He knew she understood what he meant.

“Carlos, I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“Come clean, you placed that note in my pocket.” He said.

“I honestly don’t know what you are talking about. Someone else must have placed it there.” I said innocently.

“Well, we will talk about this when I get home tonight.” Carlos promised.

“You must promise to tell me what was in the note.”

“I got to go, my next meeting is in 15 minutes and I have to get ready. I love you, Alexandria.”

“I love you too Carlos.”

He hung up the phone and busied himself pulling papers together and stuffing them in a folder. He tried not to think of the note and the way it made his cock hard. Sure she put the note there. Who was she fooling? He stopped for a moment and took a deep breath. He admitted it was bold and unexpected and sexy. Carlos shook his head clearing his sexual thoughts and picked up the folder and a pad of paper. He reached in his pocket to make sure his pen was in there, as he did so his fingers touched the note. He sighed and left the room.

As the meeting droned on he found himself bored. They had boxed lunches and he tried to focus on what the sales manager was saying. It wasn’t his department so it was even harder to care what was being said.

Carlos felt a vibration against his thigh. Great, he apparently forgot to turn his cell off this morning. He shifted in his seat, slid his phone out and hit the instant message button. He read the following and again choked from shock. “I am wet and waiting for you. If you don’t like what I do, you can spank me and then I will return the favor. I will make you cum harder than you have ever thought possible. Don’t make me wait too long…” Dominatrix Shit! He could instantly feel his cock harden and he had a coughing attack. “Carlos, are you alright?” His manager asked. “I just need some water.” He reached for the water bottle, opened it and managed to get some down.

His mind was developing all sorts of sexual fantasies and he knew he needed to get out of this meeting and fast, his only problem his raging hard on. He slipped his phone into his pants pocket, squirmed a bit in his chair and began thinking of baseball scores, of snotty nosed kids, and even about his parents. Finally, his cock softened and he felt relieved.

He began coughing again and finally his manager said, “You are excused from the rest of the meeting. And Carlos, for God’s sake, do something about that cough!” Looking a bit sheepish he gathered his things, got up out of his chair and left the room.

Once in his office, he sighed and then smiled wickedly. He was free; he could leave early! So without hesitation he grabbed his briefcase threw the folder in there, closed it up and grabbed his keys off of the desk. He turned off the light, and left his office. On his way out, he told his assistant, “I am out the rest of the day. If anyone calls I will be back in on Monday.” “Ok. Have a good weekend!” She yelled down to him as he stepped on the elevator. “I will!” he yelled back.

Once out of the elevator he walked into the parking garage finding his car quickly. He got in the car and before leaving, pulled his phone out of his pocket. He read the instant message again and his cock hardened immediately. He quickly sent a reply, “Dominatrix, I am on my way. I am ready for whatever you have planned.” He simply signed it “Your Sex Slave”. He threw the phone on to the passenger’s seat, turned on the engine and laughed. He knew this would be the best weekend he had in years!


Sweet Cheeks has been writing erotica for five years, but this is not all she writes. You can read more of her at Shazza’s Bedroom. Further, Ms Cheeks was also a contributor of the 2011 Austin International Poetry Festival; her poem, Purple Passion, was published in the festivals anthology


Copyright © 2010 by Sweet Cheeks