Back To It

Went on a work trip, then vacation, then had surgery, and now it's typing time. One more episode of Mob Men and then I'm on to the next bit o' nonsense. I'm itching to get some of the shorter works finished and thus the options are:

1. Dreams of a Doormat (what a fuckin' title. Ugh to younger me. Ugh.)
2. Last chapter of the My Neighbor series, which will need a new title because that's the title of every other goddam story. And I think I already said the new collection would be Strange Bedfellows, which isn't great, either—that's gotta be top 10 in the list of I-Write-Porn-But-Look-I'm-Smart titles. I already made a bad ebook cover, though, so what's done is done.
3. The long, single-chapter sequel to Watching Him Back in which Aaron and Crispin are secondary characters.
4. Finally finishing You're Lucky I'm Drunk. This one's tough because I actually like these characters. Neither of them are assholes or dummies, which makes it hard to let the story be a short one.
5. Finishing Will…and letting myself get hammered in the ratings because the main characters never have full-on penetrative sex.

In the meantime, back to posting the bits and bobs of nonsense.

Will.2

It's pretty obvious when this was written by the Nintendo references. Not a gamer, you guys. Read Part 1 here

***

 Dad sat back and picked up his pen again. "Okay," he said like he didn't think I got it at all, "I just want to act like you've been raised right."

I laughed at that, grateful to be excused. "You done good, Pa," I hyucked, jigging out of the room. Dad's sigh followed me into the kitchen, and I tried to erase my memory of the last thirty minutes.

As much as I wanted to pretend like things were all cool, the next day school was just weird. I felt like everyone just knew, somehow, that Will had kissed me yesterday. He could have texted me sorry, but he didn't, and so—even though I knew I shouldn't think this way—a small part of me doubted that he was sorry at all. Maybe he was gay and just felt like he couldn't tell anyone. Or maybe it had been so long since he’d gotten some that everything just kind of spilled out when I stepped forward to close the door after him. There was a spiky cloud over my head. What if Cassie told in spite of her promise? It would get around so fast. I'd never been bullied, but I could imagine that it would suck. Or maybe the gay kids here didn't have to deal with that since no one really cared. Maybe I should corner one of them and ask, just in case.

Mob Men is Live

Mob Men is up. It's showing the limits of Literotica's formatting, because I really with there was a better way to show that we're in one of Mario's reveries than

***

That's it. Center aligned asterisks and paste tense. Very unsatisfactory. 

All that being said, I realized as I was selecting chapter breaks that it would have made more sense to publish as one long piece rather than broken into several little chapters. I was too impatient; proud of myself for being able to move one more file into the Published folder. There were enough gaps between chapters of Stay Away From Her/Power Plays to let reader feedback influence some of the story in a way that still felt fun. Mob Men, by contrast, would likely benefit from reading in one burst. By the time anyone* reads this update, I'll probably have submitted the 5th chapter for publication.

Currently I'm writing an epilogue from Alex's perspective, a lil' sumthin' sumthin' to tie things up with a bow. Is it what people want? I won't find out because I'm releasing chapters too fast for anyone to form, an opinion. If I finish and publish that 6th chapter this week then you'll know I was procrastinating getting ready for a long work trip.

*No one. I yammer and yap into the void.

The Mob Kids Ride Again

In the grand scheme of Getting These Stories Fuckin' Published, I settled on the one that felt the most complete. It just so happens to be something I never published on this blog (which I realized today). Alex and Mario are sons of rival gangs: Alex is the baby of his Russian mob family, Mario the expected heir to an Italian "family." Mario is our POV character, and we follow him through a meetup with Alex as Mario reminisces about their relationship.

Initially, Sons of the Underbelly was a dumb take on yet another conversation with new acquaintances. I had only an outsider's perspective on a couple of specific cultures, and a reluctance to use the same language (mostly racial slurs) that seemed so common amongst these guys, and I still haven't seen a single episode of The Sopranos. What I did have was a story structure. So like me mashing my sister's Barbies together to make them kiss (she used to get so mad at me), that one conversation and the structure slammed together. 

I'm renaming the series. For one, Sons of the Underbelly is overwrought. For two, I'm noticing that a lot of my titles start with an S or a W, and I want to switch it up. I debated the following:

• Bravta 
• Bravta Boy
• Mafia Boys
• Mafioson (a terrible portmanteau)
• Mob Men (a terrible play on Mad Men)

The terrible wordplay was the winner! It gives nothing to potential readers. It also doesn't really fulfill its promise, because we're only following Mario when he's away from mob business. At least, right until he deliberately makes shit hit the fan.

What it does do, is be a unique and searchable title. Is it strange to be lowering my standards in order to get shit done? Or is it admirable that I'm soundly rejecting the perfectionism that kept all these stories trapped in my brain for years?

Please pretend it's the second thing while I clean up the rough edges for publication.

Power Plays: The Todd Perspective 4

WE DID IT. This fuckin' thing is all the way published on God and Al Gore's internet. Around 44,000 words in total of pure nonsense.

Part 8 was clearly published in a hurry; I missed a fair bit of formatting, accidentally changed verb tenses for a couple of paragraphs…if it were easier to edit on Literotica I'd update it, but instead I'll save the polished version for an ebook. Part 9 only needed a bit of refining, thankfully. I wrote it back in 2017 or '18, when the world was young, and it's been fun to see how accurately some readers predicted the trajectory of Jesse, Todd, and Chrisette. Part 10 was mostly new except for the first section. I wanted to get it out when some folks were still reading the previous sections, but I was pretty burnt out on this whole story. Hopefully part 10 makes sense as a culmination of Jesse's character arc.

Were I to pinpoint when Todd falls in love with Jesse, I'd say shortly after he moves in with them. He gets to see the contrast between how Chrisette always talks about Jesse and the man's day-to-day actions and motivations. Chrisette probably did have to parent Jesse while they were dating, to her credit. I imagine him to be the type of guy who never had real curtains and slept on a bare mattress before her. He always tries his best, but he's just so, so dumb.

So here's the last of Todd's perspective.

You're Lucky I'm Drunk: Coop's Corner

I needed a break from the Power Plays/Stay Away from Her mental load, so here's what I've been working on as the follow up to You're Lucky I'm Drunk.  It's told from Cooper's perspective a couple years after the first drunken hookup.

—

It was stupid to get so excited. It wasn't like he was going to want to repeat the experience from last time. We hadn't talked about it since, not on the phone, not when we were texting, not anyhow. A pandemic had put a damper on my sex life, even if it had meant regular Friday night chats with Marshall. Plus, this time he would be here on business, not to mention that I had my kid for the week. I thought about getting a sitter, but that's not an easy thing to explain to a four-year-old. “Daddy’s friend is coming to town and Daddy has a lot of confusing feelings he wants to work out with alcohol and special hugs.”

Not that Marshall and I could do anything with her around, not really. Sierra was more visibly excited than I that Uncle Marshall was going to stay a whole weekend with us. They had only met once in person, but she had decided that Marshall was her “favorite boy,” except of course for me and whichever boyfriend she had that week in preschool. He’d started reading books over video for Sierra if she was with me when he called, and fuck me if that wasn’t the goddam sweetest thing ever.

“Is he going to sleep in my room?” Sierra asked from the backseat.

Power Plays: The Todd Perspective 3

 Listen, y'all. I've written threesomes before. I've even written threesomes in which the reader is supposed to kind hate one of the participants. This one has been a doozy. After a couple of downer chapters I'm pressuring myself to make the November section a barnburner. For the people. Because erotica. Said people have been very opinionated, which made me want to take the parts I'd already written and tweak them. The trajectory it was on didn't connect to the material I had for the aftermath. What could happen during an event, that Jesse was desperate to go well, that would make Chrisette upset? Poor woman. My apologies to womankind stand.

Note to Self: in the future, just make a super long chapter with the sexy stuff as a palate cleanser for the depression, lest the shorter installments be absolutely hammered in the comments.

August

I’m on a job site in Providence, talking to the foreman, when I get a call. He takes a peek at the scene before I silence it.
“How old’s your son?”
“He just turned one,” I say, and because I know Jesse would blow a gasket if I ever claimed Seth as my own, I clarify. “He’s actually my, uh, my girlfriend’s kid, but he’s the absolute best.”

“Cute,” the foreman says. “Mine all hit a switch right around that time. They were all about mom right until around ten, eleven months maybe? And then suddenly my wife was chopped liver and I was the favorite.”
I laugh. “Seth’s probably in that camp. He says ‘Da da da da’ a lot, and you can’t tell me that’s the best a one-year-old could do with my name. Sorry to his dad, who’s a good guy.”

September

“Todd.”

I straighten up from where I’ve been leaning on the shopping cart, letting Seth pull on my hair.

“Sasha. You’re looking well.”

It’s true, she’s as sleek and gorgeous as ever. Her sharp gaze lands on Seth.

“Is this Chrissy’s kid?”

“Da! Da! Da da da da!” Seth babbles. He does love a pretty lady.

“Yeah, this is Seth.”

She nods with a downturned smile that I know means she’s judging me pretty harshly. “Wow.”

“Oh, it gets worse,” I chuckle. It’s a relief to be able to say it out loud. “I live with them. We sleep like the grandparents in Willy Wonka.”

Sasha’s thick red hair cascades behind her when she throws her head back to laugh. “Are you fucking kidding?”

“Nope. I’d love to pretend like you should have regrets, but no. You were right about everything.”

“Including Jesse?”

“Hah. Well. That one’s maybe worse than either of us thought.”

Her eyes go wide. “Oh shit. You like him.”

“Oh, hi!” Seth says, so I don’t have to reply.