The Artsy Girl – an Excerpt from my novel Yellow Socks

July 11, 2011

The Artsy Girl (as it originally appeared in Yellow Socks: Confessions of a Non-Don Juan)


Living with Terry and Morton was a blast. They were both in their early thirties and I was in my late twenties. We are all artists in one way or another and we were all on the prowl for the ladies as we clumsily tried to pick them up at coffee shops, AA meetings, bars, art shows and anywhere else we thought that we could find our type.


Our types varied. Terry was obsessed with finding a “Vampire chick” or a “Goth Chick’. Ironically he dressed kind of standard 1988 in 1995. He had that bob cut hair. It was kind of long on the sides and real short in the back. Morton was after the “Rocker Chick Slut” or the “New Age Hippie chick.” He usually dressed the part either wearing his new age outfit or his Rock star clothes. He had long black died hair. As for me, I stood by with my usual requirements: any good-looking girl that actually liked me. We rarely found what we were looking for after obsessing day and night about these fantasy girls we would never have. We had fun in our bonding of failures with the ladies.


We all lived in a house that Terry owned in a town on the outskirts of Camden, NJ. It was a poor neighborhood and was becoming racially mixed. It was mostly poor minorities and white trash. The chances of ever seeing hot chicks that fit our tastes were next to impossible.


Then she appeared. A young girl of maybe seventeen walked by our house every day around 5:30 pm. She dressed a little on the “alternative” side. It was around the end of the grunge years and that’s when the poor neighborhoods usually take over a style is when the middle class is done with it. Always a step behind. Kind of like us. So Terry nicknamed her the “Artsy Girl” because he says she dresses artsy. It was a style that was once artsy but not now. The three of us became obsessed with her. Everyday at 5:30 one of us would call to the others “Artsy Girl!” and we’d all come running to the kitchen window to see her.


“Artsy Girl!” I said.


“Where?” Terry said.


“I don’t see her. Did I miss her?” Morton said.


“Stop fucking with us, man. This is the highlight of our day. We don’t need to be teased.” Terry said.


“Sorry. I just think that it’s funny that we all start salivating the minute someone rings the Artsy Girl bell.” I said.


She was cute in her little flowered dresses and her Doc Martins. She had medium length reddish brown hair and pretty brown eyes.


One day I was walking home from the train and I ended up walking home with her. She didn’t acknowledge ever seeing me before. Thank God. She didn’t know what a letch I was. Her name was Megan. She just got out of High School. She was going to start working at the local convenience store. I was going to hit on her then I realized that she was just a regular little girl. That’s ok but not for me. When we got to my house I felt sadness in her eyes that I was going home without hitting on her or asking her for her phone number. After getting to know her the thrill of the “Artsy Girl” vanished. I realized that I am not the letch I thought. She was too young and too inexperienced in life.


I still fucked with the roommates though. I still gave them the mating call of the Artsy Girl. They still kept a running. I never felt the same again.

Purchase your copy of Yellow Socks; Confessions of a Non-Don Juan here.

Be My Valentine- Excerpt from Yellow Socks Confessions of a Non-Don Juan

February 14, 2011

This is my Valentine’s Day story loosely based on a real life story from my novel Yellow Socks: Confessions of a Non-Don Juan. Warning: it’s unrated so parental guidance is suggested.

Be My Valentine?


I was finally fucking a hot chick again. Her name was Lena. It was wonderful. She had the best pair of legs. Nice perky tits. Her face was one of the prettiest I ever kissed. The foreplay that night lasted about an hour and a half, which is a miracle for me.


Let me back this up a bit.


About two and a half years before I was totally obsessively in love with this young girl who I thought liked me named Doris. She worked at the Heritage’s convenience store near where I worked at the time. She was just 18. You know what I mean. The way she looked… The first time I asked her out we made plans to meet up after work and she stood me up. Then she gave me this story of how her brother had to go to the hospital and there were no phones etc. So I blew it off. Whatever.. Yeah right. I couldn’t get her out of my mind. So she calls me and tells me how much she likes me and we should go out again. I made plans again. And this time she stood me up because her brother was in jail. Ok shit happens. Meanwhile, I was going absolutely crazy wanting to be with this girl but I put off making plans again. Somewhere in between the two dates I manage to kiss her and she was very passionate. She seemed like she dug me based on the way she put her tongue in my mouth. So the wacko with no common sense that I am made plans with her for the third time.


She did it again!! Fuck!


So I blow her off and want nothing to do with her and she doesn’t seem to understand why. She wrote me a note saying she wanted to makeup and all that stuff. So I waited a while and finally talked to her and we made plans for Valentine’s Day, Feb 14, 2002.


Over the weekend I ran into Lena, a girl that my friend used to date when she was 18. We were in a band together and he wrote a song about her that I sang. So I hung out with Lena at a Diner that night and really hit it off. We kissed good night passionately. We made plans for early the following week around Feb 11th.


I came over and she was all over me. I just stood there and tried not to respond because I had a strange loyalty to Doris and I was going to be with Doris on the 14th, So Lena just keeps rubbing against me trying to get me horny and I was but I still resisted. She took off her shirt and started dancing with her pierced nipples bouncing around. She pealed of her jeans to reveal her blue thong. She stood there the princess of temptation. She was twenty-three now and looked better than when she was eighteen years old.


She started playing with her pussy like I have never seen before. Her hand was under her thong just rubbing her clit and moaning and she touched me. I just watched like it was on TV or something wanting to touch her but not wanting to back down on my promise to myself. She finished. We talked a little. She pretended she understood. I left.


Valentines Day I got up and was ready for my big date. I had this lingering feeling throughout the day that Doris was going to cancel. I saw her in the afternoon and she said we were still on. I started to see the light. I called Lena and told her I wanted to see her. She was free. So at the last minute before I leave work I went to see Doris. Sure enough she couldn’t make it. I thought to myself “Thank God I didn’t buy her anything.” Off to Lena’s apartment I went.


On my way I threw together a poem I thought might make her feel good. I read it to her when I arrived. She loved it. She stripped down to her thong again. It was red for Valentines Day. She helped me with my clothes. We kissed. She tasted like gum and cigarettes. I licked her neck down to her nipples. I love nipple piercings. I bit the rings and pulled them hard with my teeth. She moaned. I felt her nice round ass and squeezed to see what she could take. She said she wanted to do something wild. Wanted me to choke her. I choked her as I dry humped her. I smacked her face hard. She smiled. I pulled her hair and forced my dick into her mouth. She sucked it with all of her breath. She gagged a few times and I pulled out.


“Lick my pussy.” She said.


I went down and pulled off her thong to reveal a shaven pussy with a clit ring. I licked and pulled on the clit ring. She screamed a good scream. I smacked her ass until it was dark red. She jerked me off for a while. I turned her over and licked her ass. I fucked her feet. After an hour and a half of these various sexual acts It was time to put it in her. She spread. I put on the condom and slipped it in. Just as I started pumping her I started to lose my erection. I tried several ways of getting it up and none worked. She tried to help. After a half hour of attempts, she stood up frustrated and told me to get out.


“I can do this.” I said.


“This has never happened to me. I can’t handle this” she said.


“Really. Just give me a few minutes.”


“Out! Now!”




I left to never see her again. It was the last time I got laid in years. I remember every little detail.


Impossible Love

January 29, 2011

%d bloggers like this: