Coming Together Presents: M. Christian

By M. Christian

A collection of erotic fiction by the incomparable M. Christian, edited by Lisabet Sarai. All proceeds benefit PLANNED PARENTHOOD.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Coming Together
• Release date: Jan 27, 2010
• ISBN: 9781452311708

M. Christian

M.Christian is - among many things - an acknowledged master of erotica with more than 300 stories in such anthologies as Best American Erotica, Best Gay Erotica, Best Lesbian Erotica, Best Bisexual Erotica, Best Fetish Erotica, and many, many other anthologies, magazines, and Web sites.He is the editor of 20 anthologies including the Best S/M Erotica series, The Burning Pen, Guilty Pleasures, The Mammoth Book of Future Cops and The Mammoth Book of Tales of the Road (with Maxim Jakubowksi) and Confessions, Garden of Perverse, and Amazons (with Sage Vivant) as well as many others.He is the author of the collections Dirty Words, Speaking Parts, The Bachelor Machine, Licks & Promises, Filthy, Love Without Gun Control, Rude Mechanicals, and Coming Together: M.Christian; and the novels Running Dry, The Very Bloody Marys, Me2, Brushes, and Painted Doll.

Book preview

Introduction

About Coming Together

Introduction

During my last decade as a reader, reviewer, and editor, I've probably read at least five hundred erotic stories. Out of that vast number, a mere dozen or two have stayed with me―stories whose originality, emotional intensity and consummate craft kept them fresh and memorable long after the other tales had faded from my mind.

Quite a few of these outstanding tales were authored by M. Christian. He knows how to write stories that haunt you, stories that make you laugh and make you yearn, stories that create new worlds populated with exotic and surprising creatures. Stories that you remember. Whether he is penning cyber-punk or satire, gay romance or lesbian smut, his vivid characters hang around after the covers are closed and the lights are out.

I was delighted when Chris agreed to assemble a collection of his stories for the Coming Together Presents series. As I worked on this book, I was reminded yet again what a creative and versatile writer he is. Coming Together Presents: M. Christian ranges from the leather bars of San Francisco to the deserts of Mars. The characters include rock-and-rollers, dykes with attitude, horny office workers, tortured artists, inter-galactic lawyers, even Mona Lisa. The atmosphere is tough and gritty in one tale, lyrical in the next, and teasingly tongue-in-cheek in a third.

One of the things I like best about M. Christian's erotica is his expansive view of sexuality. His characters are not prisoners of their labels. They grow and change in the course of the story, and that change might involve crossing the artificial lines between straight and gay, femme and butch, dominant and submissive. Although he's straight, Chris writes remarkably convincing gay and lesbian erotica. I suspect that, like me, he believes that sexual orientation is a continuum and that most individuals, regardless of their genitalia, have both male and female components in their sexual make-up.

The other aspect of his fiction that always impresses me is his emphasis on the experience of desire in contrast to the activity of sex. Don't misunderstand me―this book offers lots of steamy, satisfying sexual encounters. However, it is not primarily a book about people fucking. Rather, M. Christian's stories tend to be about what people want―or think they want. A recurring theme is the character who discovers unexpected desires focused on unusual objects.

If you are reading this at all, you are probably eager to get into the stories themselves. I won't delay you much longer. I do want to say a word about the charity M. Christian selected to receive the proceeds from this volume: Planned Parenthood. For close to a century, Planned Parenthood has offered a commonsense approach to women's health and well-being, based on respect for each individual's right to make informed, independent decisions about health, sex, and family planning. PPFA is a health care provider, a source of in-depth, factual information and an advocate for women's reproductive rights.

PPFA is controversial because of its defense of abortion rights. As M. Christian wrote on my blog last December:

Yes, Planned Parenthood has become a kind of pariah, a pretend-it-doesn't exist organization, but this is why it needs as much financial and emotional support as it can get: they are fighting for everyone to have access to sexual information and reproductive health but also for women to be in control of their own bodies.

But more importantly they are the resource for those who need them most, those who must face the truth of who they are, and if they truly can either have, or give someone else, a worthwhile life.

I wholeheartedly agree, and I'm honored to be able to make my own small contribution to the organization by presenting the work of M. Christian.

~ Lisabet Sarai

2 January 2010

For more information about Planned Parenthood, visit http://www.plannedparenthood.org

Services Rendered

Seventy miles beyond Phoenix the rental car just died. No warning, no coughing, hiccup, hesitation or grinding—one minute 65 MPH, window down, wind streaming through her hair, something pounding and brassy on the radio and the next, just the sound of tires on asphalt, slowly winding down to a dead crawl.

Luckily, out in the middle of nowhere, there was something: rust-pocked, grease-smeared, dirt-encrusted, GARAGE was nevertheless a blessed sight. Luckily, the rental had just enough momentum to carry Lisa off the endless stretch of highway and up to one of the antique pumps.

Hello? she said, slamming the door in frustration. Anyone here?

The only thing that responded was the sad squeaking of a propane sign.

Great, she said, leaning back against the warm metal of the car. Just great.

The funny part was that the day had started out well enough—her flight into Phoenix hadn't been delayed, her luggage hadn't gone on a whirlwind tour of Europe, and the deal waiting for her in Taos had looked mighty tasty.

That, and the drive had been pleasant—the highway narrowing towards the vanishing point, dry desert air, a vast blue sky had been almost ... well, she felt more like a spry twenty one than a respectable thirty. Life had been looking sweet, profitable and—yeah—even fun.

Then the car had died. Then she was stuck in the middle of a hot, dry nowhere. Then she realized that she was completely, utterly alone.

Hey there—having a little engine trouble?

She was startled to discover that after spending so much time trying to outthink her business competition, she could still be shocked, but the feeling was right there, fresh and electric. Spinning around, she tried to gulp back the frightened little squeal that had started in her belly.

But then, seeing him, she let it out anyway. Um, er—yeah. It just conked out on me.

He was someone she totally didn't expect to run across in a dusty little corner of nowhere: tall, with broad shoulders that showed a great deal of poise and strength; a handsome, windblown face; gray eyes dancing with a kind of deep, internal laughter. He walked out of the garage office, wiping his powerful-looking hands with a bright red rag. Dressed simply, in jeans and blue denim shirt, he looked much more alive than the tired, almost-dead, garage.

Against her will, Lisa felt her body respond. Her nipples hardened in her no-nonsense bra and her pussy give a sympathetic little twinge. Almost instantly, she tried to get her mind off him—the randy college kid she used to be might have come onto him, might have tried to think of someplace private where they could get more comfortable, but this wasn't her—this was the more respectable, more disciplined, more collected Lisa.

Still, he was damned hot.

Could be anything I guess, he said, walking towards her, smiling broadly. Weather like this can totally screw up an engine.

It just cut out on me. Luckily I was able to coast in here.

Closer, she was surprised even more by his face—tanned, with a sexy play of laugh lines—and by how much her body continued to react to his closeness.

I could take a look at it, but frankly these new cars with all their microchips ... he shrugged. Lisa would normally have found the gesture irritating for its vagueness, but in him it was even sexier.

I'd really appreciate it. I have a meeting to get to— The meeting was actually three days away, but his being so close was driving her nuts.

He smiled again. Roger— he said, extending his hand. If I'm going be prowling around under your hood we should at least be formally introduced.

Warm, dry—his hand in hers sent an electric shiver up Lisa's spine. Despite herself, she started to think about how his lips might feel. Like I said, it's very important. I'll do whatever it takes— The instant she said it, she bit her lips, shocked at her bravado.

He never stopped smiling. From a beautiful woman like you that's quite an offer. How could I refuse?

In a blur, his sleeves were rolled, and he had his head under her hood. Standing in the shade by the pumps, Lisa watched him work. The jeans and his denim shirt showed a very strong back and—she could not help but notice—a very tight ass. It was all Lisa could do to not just walk up and put her hands on him.

I think it's something with your electrical system, he said, getting out from under the rental car's hood and turning to face her. I could try jumping it from another car, but I really think you need an expert.

Damn. Like I said, I really have to get going.

Like I said, I can give it a shot. Shouldn't take that long to get hooked up, I guess.

Thanks—this means a lot to me. Just let me know what you need to get the job done. Like I said, I do need to get going.

Roger looked at her, and she felt his sight like a warm hand flowing over her body. Normally she would have been shocked, maybe even insulted but there—in the hot afternoon sun, miles from anywhere—she had to admit that she liked it.

Well, you could start— he said, leaning close, voice in a husky, playful whisper, —by showing me what color panties you're wearing.

Again, she should have blushed, should have straightened up, and just walked away. Even in her wild college days she would have been shocked ... but heat, miles and miles of empty road, a handsome man ... she blinked, blinked again, and then smiled.

Leaning back against the warm fender of her car, she took hold of the hem of her skirt and slowly raised it, giving him an inch by inch view of her long, shapely legs, the tops of her stockings (she hated pantyhose) and then the bright red triangle of her pussy. I never wear them, she said in a husky whisper. I don't like to feel confined.

His eyes danced from her bush to meet her stare. Great minds think alike, he said, brushing a hand down the front of his jeans, where Lisa noticed a spectacularly long bulge showed.

She was about to say something—anything to give her an excuse to get down on her knees, unzip his confining fly and take out that huge cock—when he crouched down next to one of the old pumps. You know, you have a very pretty bush, but I can't see all that much of you, he said. Come here.

Lisa eased herself off the fender and slowly walked towards him, keeping one hand on the hem of her skirt, so his view wouldn't be obscured. Standing right in front of him, so close that she could almost feel his breath on her thighs, she asked, Is this better?

Much, he said, staring up at her. One of his hands reached up under her skirt and cupped her ass cheek. The contact was electric, high-voltage—it felt almost like a fragment of a come, it was so powerful. Without looking, Lisa knew that she was more than wet. She could feel herself start to flow.

With one of his powerful hands gripping her ass tightly, he pulled her inexorably forward. The touch of his lips was ecstatic, even though that's all it was—just a touch. In an instant, Lisa was aware of every sensation: the impression of his hand as he squeezed her cheeks; his hot breath on her pubic hair, on her so-wet lips; the dry desert air blowing around them, the way her feet skidded apart on the gritty asphalt.

Then he really started: first a few tentative licks, as if getting to know her wet territory—tongue gently parting her lips, and then giving her long, strong strokes that sent shivers up and down her spine—and then in earnest. He did more than just lick her. It felt like Roger was devouring her cunt.

Legs quaking, Lisa felt herself press down onto his face, a wild chorus of moans escaping from her pursed lips. Before she was even aware of it, she started to come. It was shocking, unreal. Like a powerful jolt of body electricity, it rocketed up from Roger's tongue on her throbbing clit, up her spine, past her aching nipples, and out her now-open mouth in a guttural cry.

Instantly, her balance left her and she stumbled back, ass smacking against her car's fender. Panting heavily, she blinked and blinked again, until she was finally able to focus. My God, she finally managed to say.

And what a sight greeted her clearing eyesight: Roger standing just a few feet away, smiling broad and happy, big cock in his tanned hand. For a moment, with her orgasm still quivering through her, all Lisa could do was stare. He wasn't huge, he wasn't tremendous, he wasn't even all that big, but Roger did have one of the most damned handsome cocks she'd ever seen.

It was seven, maybe eight inches, with a glorious bulbous head that instantly started Lisa hungering for its taste, for it to fill her hungry mouth. Just before she was ready to straighten herself slightly, wobble over, kneel down and swallow him whole, he said, Of course there might be an extra charge for parts—

Despite her raging horniness, Lisa coughed out a short, hysterical laugh. Well, I said I'd do anything—

The ground didn't look too inviting—grease-spotted and covered with a sprinkling of God-knew what—so Lisa walked over and took hold of Roger's cock and gently led him over to her car. Get up there, she said, patting the trunk.

In her hand, Roger's cock was incredible—silken skin covering rock-hard muscle, a sweet drop of pre-cum glimmering at the tip—but in her mouth it was magical. Leaning down, she first kissed the tip, relishing in the salty, sweet flavor of that pre-cum, then licked all around, smiling at the chorus of delighted groans and moans Roger made, before opening her mouth and slowly easing him inside.

For a long time it was just Lisa and his cock. She felt she had gone somewhere else, somewhere where her tongue, lips, the roof of her mouth and her teeth, plus Roger's magnificent cock, were all that existed. She sucked and licked and stroked and swallowed him, delighting in his cock's texture, flavor, smell—totally lost in her sucking.

She could tell he was ready to come, could feel it in the way his cock jumped and quivered as she stroked and sucked at him. In her mind, she was ready for his come, ready for the flood of salty delight she knew was just around the bend, so she was a little shocked when he said. I want to feel you.

The words were odd, but she instantly caught his meaning—and wasn't disappointed at all that he wasn't going to shoot in her mouth. Getting off the hood, he passed her, stopping to give her a wonderful, passionate kiss, and then gently moved her till she was bent over the car.

Distantly, she felt her skirt rise, felt his gentle, slick cock probe between her cheeks, glancing by her cunt lips, then ... then he was inside her.

At first, he fucked her slowly. Lisa was grateful for his steady rhythm. She could feel him glide in and out, sliding back and forth between her ass cheeks. It was special, magical: a sedate oscillation when her body screaming for a pounding fuck. Sometimes, Lisa realized, the last thing you think you'd like is just right.

Hours, days, weeks ... time vanished in the pumping action of his cock in her cunt. Eyes squeezed shut, Lisa half-expected to open them to a dark desert sky, or a breaking dawn.

Then it changed and he was really fucking her, pounding her, slamming his heavy thighs onto her ass, banging his balls against her pussy lips and his cock into the depths of the cunt.

When it finally arrived, her come was like a blast of hot sunlight through her body—a rush of deep body joy that knocked her legs out from under her, dropping her solidly onto the