The Punany Experience Read online

  Dear Reader:

  Jessica Holter has mesmerized audiences for over a decade with her live performances exploring sensuality and sexuality—two totally different things—through poetic word and physical expression. She is undoubtedly a prolific poet. In The Punany Experience, she shows the world how prolific she is as an author.

  Korea and Stormy had traumatic childhoods, like so many women, and end up becoming involved later on in life. But their relationship—their love—is not an easy journey. Both have different needs and desires, and both have a lot of emotional baggage and scars inflicted on them by men. They want the American dream; a nice home, financial freedom, and true love. They have it, for a period of time but soon realize that it is not enough. That is the amazing thing about life. Once we achieve everything that we have ever wanted, we begin to yearn for something different. Why? Because all of the challenges and hurdles have been overcome. That is human nature.

  The Punany Experience is engaging, sensual, suspenseful, and a real eye-opener. This book is for anyone who wants to learn more about how people think, how they love, and how they cope. It is possible to beat the odds, to repair damage, and find what it is that you truly seek. Once Hartford enters the lives of Korea and Stormy, everything changes. Hartford is a complicated man, with unusual desires that his wife cannot fulfill. That is when “the war between tops and bottoms” begins.

  Thank you for giving this book a chance. I am sure that you will enjoy it. Thank you for reading the books published by all of my Strebor authors. I try my best to bring you out-of-the-box titles that you will not find at other publishers. I have always been a risk-taker and believe that every good story has an audience. You can visit me online at Eroticanoir.com or join my online social network at PlanetZane.org.

  Blessings,

  Publisher

  Strebor Books

  www.simonandschuster.com/streborbooks

  ALSO BY JESSICA HOLTER

  Verbal Penetration

  Strebor Books

  P.O. Box 6505

  Largo, MD 20792

  http://www.streborbooks.com

  www.SimonandSchuster.com

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  © 2010 by Jessica Holter

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means whatsoever. For information address Strebor Books, P.O. Box 6505, Largo, MD 20792.

  ISBN 978-1-59309-145-3

  LCCN 2010925103

  eISBN 978-1-4165-5330-4

  First Strebor Books trade paperback edition July 2010

  Cover design: www.mariondesigns.com

  Cover photograph: © Keith Saunders/Marion Designs

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  For information regarding special discounts for bulk purchases, please contact Simon & Schuster Special Sales at 1-866-506-1949 or [email protected]

  The Simon & Schuster Speakers Bureau can bring authors to your live event. For more information or to book an event, contact the Simon & Schuster Speakers Bureau at 1-866-248-3049 or visit our website at www.simonspeakers.com.

  To Patience

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  I would like to thank God for keeping me alive through it all.

  To my patient and loving son, KLH, for being my motivation to improve myself.

  To Zane and Charmaine, for accepting, editing and publishing this book; to Shay, for being a confidante and a friend throughout this writing process; even though you don’t even know me. To Artisha “Mack” McCullough, for waking the sleeping lover in me, so I could write and be about sex again. To Olaywa and Porsha, for listening. To Lisa Blackwell, Jeannie Arnold, Terenda and Jack, Julie and Todd, for giving me a home when I had none, and for taking care of me when I was sick, hurting, or traveling; to Britteni (Honey T) Taylor and all of The Punany Poets; to Denyse Ford and all of her ladies who give love to Ghetto Girl Blue—thank you for feeding me; to Dwayne, Yulonda, and Sven, for the game. Special thanks to Ms. Sonni Collins and Terenda Goodwin for taking the time to read and edit this book. But, especially, to all of THE FANS who have truly given me a Punany Experience.

  INTRODUCTION

  When I was asked to present a second book to Zane, I pondered over how to deliver a novel the fans of the Strebor authors would appreciate. I decided to base this book, The Punany Experience, on a poem from my first book, Zane Presents The Punany Poets’ Verbal Penetration. Far from the average down low discussion, The War Between Tops and Bottoms, a story-poem about two lesbians in a sexual battle with one another and a married man, shocked audiences when it was first presented in live form by the talented actress and AIDS activist, LOVE the poet. This poem initiated discussions during my Punany-branded cabaret shows about the power of the prostate, and began conversations about what is “gay” and what is “straight.” The Punany Experience is a provocative excursion into a world where the lines of sexual identification are seductively rubbed away to reveal the unobstructed truth; that orientation is simply the process of becoming accustomed to something that is new to you.

  So, with no further ado, I present to some, and introduce to others…

  THE WAR BETWEEN TOPS & BOTTOMS

  Late.

  her hips pressed

  against my ass

  Hot.

  because he was watching

  It’s like that?

  It could be.

  but what she

  really wants to do

  is fuck a man in the ass

  Like that?

  Yep.

  She’s never done it before. I lied, not knowing it yet.

  Forty-five minutes and a bridge ride later

  my phone rang…

  “Booty Call,

  Booty Call,

  Booty Call!”

  I wondered if I could download that ring

  and set it for the men

  who phone disrespectfully

  after 10 o’clock pm

  It was 2:15 in the morning

  “Is it cool?

  I’m on my way to your pad.”

  I looked at my woman

  as if to ask permission

  She returned a sly glance as if to say,

  “Bring it on!”

  Five minutes inside

  he was just parking

  but she was already

  showered and strapped

  I had seen her that way many times

  her plump ass squeezed between three black leather straps

  holding in place a 9-inch dick

  I had handpicked from Good Vibrations

  to match the John Henry hunk of the man

  I used to call my husband

  It was large, slightly flexible, jet black

  and bulged with human vein-like texture

  I had a special relationship to this dick

  It was mine

  and I was particular about it.

  to me, it was as real as any dick,

  as in relationships

  it would only stray if I got careless and lost it

  or as in tonight, chose to give it away.

  It was huge next to her small body

  but trust,

  she wore it and used it like she had grown it

  She was soft butch, bisexual by admission

  and beautiful by even Hollywood standards

  If she were an ice cream she’d be a Creole Mocha Blend

  A tiny package, she was full of surprises

  Hairs on her chin
/>
  Egotistical and a Taurus

  even her cum smelled like a man’s

  Yet her breasts were nearly as large as mine

  and I was busting provocatively out of a double D

  I’d lie if I said living this life

  didn’t bring thoughts of

  Jerry Springer to my mind from time to time

  I giggled like the child I felt like,

  Anticipating…

  Nowhere to hide

  She made a cup of coffee

  sipped it wearing nothing

  but the dick and strap

  I blushed

  abandoned her to the shower

  doorbell rings

  I scrubbed and tried to wash off the vodka

  so I could know that this was really happening

  Now let me get this straight…

  rinsing my cigarette breath again

  spitting water

  My former lover

  Is coming over

  to let my lesbian lover

  fuck him in the ass

  I shook my head a couple times

  but the thought was still there

  My heart would not stop racing

  it wasn’t sexual excitement

  I was pretty sure of that

  It felt more like the nerves that flutter about your stomach

  when you know you have done wrong and your momma has found out

  but you haven’t made it home yet

  and your sister is running toward you

  shouting

  ooooh, you gonna get it!

  Accepting the inevitable

  you can only hope she falls.

  I had known him for as long as I had known my own sexual being

  I was a virgin when we met

  He introduced me to the freak in me

  and has kept her skills on point for nearly twenty years

  but never this way

  Damn!

  My momma told me he was gay!

  I was thinking this when he stepped into the shower

  He washed my body

  kissed me everywhere

  just like he used to

  and did that thing he does with his thumbs

  massaging my inner thighs down to the bone

  gently stretching my pussy with circular motions

  until I had the urge to press down

  and give birth to another level of

  our homie-lover-friendship

  I was melting in the heat

  I cooled the water down

  Kissed the softest lips I have ever known

  and said goodbye to love making as I had known it with him

  My momma

  and the women of her generation

  would have stopped us dead in our tracks

  because there are some things you just don’t hang out to dry

  What was going down tonight

  was definitely going to leave some dirty laundry

  She made it easy to get started

  She didn’t believe in awkward moments

  He stepped out of the shower

  She pushed me into him

  He held me tight

  lit a joint, passed it around

  The kissing commenced quickly

  I couldn’t suck her pussy with the strap on

  and her legs so tight, like they always are for me

  so I sucked her dick

  then his

  He ate my pussy

  then tongue kissed her ass

  She ate my pussy then tongue kissed him

  then put her tongue to his rim

  for a very long time

  he wanted to enter her

  she wasn’t having it

  I stepped out of the room to grab two rubbers

  while they decided who’s on top

  and what’s on second

  I don’t know,

  third base came so quickly

  I didn’t have time to think

  I sat back and took a lesson in testosterone

  waiting just a few moments to see if

  he would give the ass up right away

  A few more of her famous tongue lashings

  inside and outside of his asshole

  she was going to be in there

  I couldn’t bear to watch him go out like that

  I wanted to know, but I couldn’t watch

  So I did what any woman

  in denial about the sexual preference

  of a man she’s loved since childhood would do…

  I slipped my body under his shoving hips into his

  I spread my legs

  Spread them wide

  opened my pussy up in the candlelight

  Wet my finger

  slapped my clit

  pushed two fingers in and out of myself

  testing the waters with my own tongue

  and

  attempted to flood the room

  with the intoxicating pheromones

  of my good pussy

  but all I could smell was ass

  as she dug into him

  with such aggression,

  her force urged him deeper inside of me.

  Part of me hoped for a fast win in this

  war between tops and bottoms

  for the sake of my health

  Cuz this was 2004

  and I had been fucking a man who

  desired a dick in his ass

  for nearly half of my life

  The other parts of me were

  extremely turned on

  extremely jealous

  and angry

  over how I had been a sexual fool

  seeing all the signs, heeding no warning

  What was more, I hadn’t even been giving him,

  what he was really looking for

  My body grew hotter

  as he kissed me and briefly remembered me

  calling my name

  I drew my pussy like an M16

  and fired into the dark

  He spread my thighs wider

  Fucked me with his tongue

  Sucking my fat pussy lips

  on the up stroke

  a couple feet away I could hear her tongue

  lathering up his ass

  His hips began to roll

  Pow! She slapped it with a magical sting

  and raised the ass high into the air

  with the power possessed in her fingertips

  My man was now my woman’s bitch

  And the 9-inch dick I had picked

  from a little Berkeley sex boutique,

  that reminded me of my husband,

  and gave to my lesbian lover

  to fuck me with,

  was in my soul mate’s ass

  deeply, in his ass

  “Stop.”

  he pronounced

  candy in my ears

  She withdrew

  He caught his breath

  Then whispered

  “Tell her to put it back in.”

  My pussy got numb.

  He continued to fuck me, I think.

  Mostly, she fucked him

  She fucked him, and busted so many times

  before they finally came together

  Their unified moans and grunts

  were like a song, a dirty rap song

  I added some curse words and moans

  of my own but my pussy was only wet

  with her juices

  as they shot on his ass and thighs

  and dripped down to tease me.

  But he still wanted to enter her

  in four years, I hadn’t even put a finger inside of her

  she almost didn’t lay down for that

  gave it the political lesbian try

  before her legs were spread so far apart

  I didn’t recognize her or her porn star vocabulary

  The pair weren’t fighting anymore

  “Thank you, thank you, thank you”

 
he repeated emphatically

  over and over as he dressed

  He really meant that shit.

  I had two G’s in my bed

  giving me the kind of truth

  you don’t even get in church

  I had no reason to be mad

  I set the whole thing up

  I had asked for a pass to a game that was not for suckers

  He wanted something that I wasn’t willing to give

  and now that I know this

  I can choose not to put myself at risk

  I wasn’t mad anymore.

  because I was no longer a fool,

  just maybe a little grossed out.

  I mean, except for the fact that

  the entire room smelled like ass

  It might have even been cool.

  But the thought of where his ass goes

  on nights he can’t find a woman

  so willing to engage in anal play

  was a little bit scary

  It was 4:15 when he went home to his wife

  I drank my girl’s cold coffee

  Sat down at my computer and ordered

  a new dick online

  —T. CALLOWAY

  CHAPTER 1: THE VIRGIN FILES:

  STORMY IN THE HOUSE OF THE LORD

  He wasn’t like any of the other men in the church. He did not dress like a deacon. He did not speak like a saint, but Brother Marcel Samuels could sing like a Temptation. He was nineteen years old, suave, and confident. He was a regular guy from the neighborhood, like the ones with Jheri curls, and puff coats that hung in front of the Dolomite Liquor store where Stormy Talbert shopped for candy after Sunday school; the store with the spinning rack of pantyhose and stockings that got her in all that trouble one day. Brother Samuels had all of the traits that made people stand out in the Oakland, California neighborhood—light skin, good hair, green eyes, and savoir-faire. He could have been a pimp, a player, or a gigolo but instead, he was newly saved, baptized, and filled with the Holy Ghost, making every Sunday feel like Motown as his long, neatly manicured fingers danced across the ivory keys with the Midas touch.

  “This young man can spin gospel into gold,” Pastor told the church on the day he appointed him Minister of Music at Faithful Baptist Church. Pastor and the entire church body hoped young Marcel would lead them to gospel stardom in a land that had been dominated by the Hawkins family for years. The truth was, most folks knew little to nothing about him. He was a pied piper from the projects, who had increased church membership by nearly thirty percent in a few months, with his silky voice and golden touch. Pastor never even asked him if he wanted to be baptized. He offered him a salary and dipped him for political posture in the pool beneath the movable floor of the choir stand. He fought a bit as Pastor and a deacon pushed him under, a washcloth over his mouth, a hand on his hands, which were folded over his chest, as he went down into the water.