Points Club.

The man across from me in the booth looked serious but not threatening.

“Okay, call me Alan and this is Tina.”

Tina had overstepped some boundary. Her eyes were down and her cheeks were red. Alan was damage control, but I still didn’t understand what damage he was trying to control.

“Look,” I said. “I don’t want any trouble, and I don’t want to get anyone else in any trouble. My name’s Marc…Marc Stevens.”

Tina looked up then. Her brow furled. “Marc Stevens? Why do I know that name?”

Alan also appeared confused, as he looked at me. Then his eyes brightened. “It’s the same name as that guy on the blog we’ve all been reading. You know, the Man in the Shadows?”

Tina looked animated. “Oh my god, you’re not him are you?”

I was kind of surprised. I didn’t think my little blog had reached that many people. I nodded.

“So, did that girl across the hall thing really happen like that?”

Tina seemed to have gotten a little off track, so I looked at Alan, but he just raised an eyebrow.

“Well, yeah…kind of.” This was something I hadn’t expected. “I mean, I’m a writer, so I might have embellished a little.”

Okay, there I said it. I am a FICTION writer after all.

“Anyway, getting back on subject,” Alan was all seriousness now, “we’d really like you to forget about the stuff Tina said.”

“You mean the points and posting and all that?” Could I really forget about it? Ideas were already swirling about what kind of place this was. The stories I could write. “I don’t know if Tina gave me any real information to work with. But I am wondering about it. I mean, where my mind is going now, would make for some great stories.”

Alan sighed and nodded. “Some things just can’t be undone.” He motioned toward the burly bartender. “Harvey, come over here.”

Professional barman in black standing bar

God, I thought I’d really stuck my foot in it. The guy was huge and he scowled at me as he ambled across the barroom floor.

“Harvey, this is Marc Stevens.”Alan said as the big man approached.

Harvey’s face instantly brightened. “The guy with the Blog?”

“Yeah,” Alan said, and Harvey held out his hand. I shook it, still expecting to be pummeled and thrown out of the bar. “You write fun stuff.”

Alan nodded, but he turned toward the bartender. “Tina kind of let the cat out of the bag.”

Harvey’s visage darkened. “Shit, you can’t write about what’s going on here.”

Alan held up his hand. “Maybe, he can. He writes fiction, after all. No one is going to believe it’s true.”

Tina all of a sudden seemed animated. “God, I’d love him to write about that night…”

And that’s how I joined the Points Club, an exclusive sex club hiding behind the facade of a shabby dining establishment.

I met quite a few of the members that night. All of them young, fit and good looking. A lot of them wanted to share their stories with me, but I promised Tina and Alan I’d tell their story first, so I’m working on that one now.

Considering what they told me, I don’t think I’ll have to embellish at all.



Another good review!

I’m going to interrupt my regular blogging today to announce some exciting news. Mei Writes and Reviews, a wonderful erotica review site, just gave That Girl Across The Hall a glowing review.

Go check out the review here: http://meiwrites.webs.com/apps/blog/show/23023903-that-girl-across-the-hall-by-mark-stevenson

Then go get the story here: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00B3OSHSY

It’s just 99¢

A big thank you for all you who have supported me in my venture. So much more to cum come. 😉


The North Point Supper Club.

The North Point Supper Club

I stepped into the North Point Supper Club with trepidation. Dark and under-lit, it took my eyes a few minutes to adjust. When they finally did I concluded it didn’t look much better on the inside than it looked on the outside. The booth cushions and chairs were dingy and worn. The tables were scratched and showed signs of their age. While fairly clean, the place really lacked any appeal. This would be a perfect candidate for Restaurant Impossible.

The sign by the front door read ‘Please Seat Yourself.’ So I did, finding a booth where I could get a good view of the bar and dining areas. I was intrigued, but skeptical. If there was a story here, I wasn’t seeing one.

3 men

There were only a few people in the bar area. Three men were talking about the upcoming Superbowl, and which team they thought would win. Two very attractive women sat at one of the tables chatting softly and occasionally casting glances toward the men. The guys would have had to be stupid not to notice the women’s interest. In any other bar those guys would have been all over the girls. Was this the story I was looking for?

An attractive waitress took my order for a drink, and I occupied myself watching her sexy ass swaying all the way back to the bar. The burly bartender took her order then shot me a rather glaring look. What was that all about?

The door opened and a large group of people came in boisterously shouting to those already in the place.  As I waited on my own drink, I noted the bartender getting right to work mixing beverages for the new folk, and exchanging comments with them. Obviously the regulars here got preferential treatment.

I waited another twenty minutes before the waitress brought me my drink. It was overpriced and watered down, but by that point I was parched. I took a hefty gulp, and barely felt the burn of the alcohol down the back of my throat. More had wondered in by that time, and there seemed to be a tense camaraderie between all the people there.


That’s when it hit me. Everyone there, including the bartenders and waitresses, were young, fit and attractive. It was like something out of a Hollywood movie set. There wasn’t even anyone I would call average-looking. What were the odds of this being a coincidence?

Then she walked in. In a room of beautiful people, she stood out as gorgeous – stunning. Her legs attracted me first. Long, tanned and toned. My eyes traveled up those incredible limbs to the high hem of a little black dress that showed so much more than it hid. By the time she reached the bar, the bartender already had her drink ready. My eyes continued up the bare expanse of her back to a silky fall of raven tresses. She grabbed the glass from the bartender then turned and looked right at me.

Beautiful woman

I fell into her eyes. Captured – captivated. I know my mouth must have hung open. She smiled and started across the room toward me.

“You must be the new guy.” Her voice was soft, sweet and sexy. She arched an eyebrow as she slipped into the booth across from me. “Did you post? I wouldn’t mind being the one to break you in.”

“Post?” I swear my voice broke when I pushed the question out.

Her eyes scanned me up and down. “Hell, I’d give you ten points just for a straight up. Don’t sell yourself cheap.”

“Um…I don’t know…” I wasn’t sure how to answer.

One of the men across the barroom detached himself from the crowd and headed toward us.

“Really, if you’re not posted for tonight, I’d love to be your first.” Her eyes took on a mischievous glint. “You’re going to need points anyway, and I promise you’ll have almost as much fun as I do.”

The man reached us just then. His eyes were dark, his expression serious. He grabbed the woman’s shoulder, drawing her attention, then just shook his head.

“Oh God.” The woman gasped, he hand flew to her mouth. “I’m sorry. I thought…”

The man slid into the booth next to the woman.

“Am I missing something?” I asked.

The man sighed at the woman then turned toward me. “You can call me damage control.” He forced a smile and extended his hand across the table.

I took it as a good sign and clasped his hand firmly. I had a feeling I didn’t need to keep looking for my story. The story had just found me.

More later,


My guardian devil?

My creative juices are flowing…well, all my juices are flowing. Amy’s been insatiable lately because of her rising prominence as a model. Hell, I’m not surprised at all. She’s gorgeous.

I’m riding pretty high myself, with the release of That Girl Across The Hall. I’ve gotten some really positive feedback. Thanks to all you who left comments, and followed me on Twitter and Facebook. A special thank you to A Grumpy Young Woman for her wonderful review: http://lovesandhatesofagrumpyyoungwoman.wordpress.com/2013/01/22/book-review-that-girl-across-the-hall-by-marc-stevens-2/

But, the real impetus for my new writing energy is her:

Happy urban girl in car

Yup, the mysterious blond in the red VW bug. Here’s how it went down.

I was writing like crazy, my head in a great story, when she knocked on my door.

“Okay, sexy, let’s go for a ride.” Her voice hinted at danger and sensuality…or maybe I just imagined that. I had been just writing after all. You know, in the zone.

“Where are we going?” With her, I could only imagine. Who was she anyway? Hell, who cared? She could take me anywhere she wanted.

“You’ll see.” A devious smile played across her face as her tongue caressed her bottom lip.

She pulled me out to the parking lot and motioned toward her bug. “Get in, I’m driving.”

I wondered if that means I’m going down on her this time. She’s wearing a short skirt, and I have a feeling there’s nothing under it but lusciousness.

She gets in the driver’s seat and I notice she doesn’t bother buckling up. “You live a bit dangerously.”

I’m an always-wear-my-seatbelt kind of guy, but I figure she’s driving, what the hell.

She laughs. “I like a little thrill with in my life.”

Well, she seems intent on putting a little thrill in my life also, but she hasn’t steered me wrong so far.

She pulls out of the parking lot, and into traffic. “So do I get to know your name?”

A serious look crosses her face and she shakes her head. “Not yet. You’re not ready to know about me.”

I decide to be bold, and slip my hand between her legs. I was right, no panties. “I have to discover who you are a little at a time, don’t I?”

She was damp as hell, and I slid two fingers into her. “I’ll tell you what you need to know, when you need to know it.” She smiled and I felt her clench around me.

“What are you? My guardian angel?”

She purred, pushing her pelvis into my hand. “Something like that, but don’t ever call me an angel.”

I feel her quiver and I increased my motion, delving deeper. I thought maybe if she was sufficiently distracted she’d slip up and tell me something about herself. “You look like an angel to me.”

“Ha, a lot you know.” Her lips curled. “Angels are pure, chaste…boring.”

She was breathing hard, panting, and I noticed we’re driving about 20 miles per hour over the speed limit.

I worked her hard, and felt her gush on my fingers. God, she felt amazingly silky. “And here I though you came from heaven.”

“Think lower.” There was an evil leer in her eyes.

With a sudden turn of the wheel, we skid into the parking lot of a night club. Rubber squealing against the pavement we slid right up to the front door of the North Point Supper Club.

“Get out. There’s a story in there you have to write.”

It’s just past 4:00 PM and the parking lot is sparsely populated. The building was large, with few windows and dark wood siding. The heavy wooden door had a welcome sign on it, but the place didn’t look very welcoming.

painted door

“You coming in with me?”

She shook her head. “You’re on your own, cowboy. I’ll pick you up in three hours.”

I shrugged and got out of the car. I could always call a cab if I wanted to leave before that, but I had a feeling I’d stay the whole time. She knew something, and that’s a bit scary.

If she’s not my guardian angel, what the hell is she?

Sexy Fruit.

Okay, maybe it’s the whole Kevin thing that has me on edge, but the words are not flowing as good as the wine. I’m in a strange mood today and thought I’d pass along some strange, wine-tinged observations.

Bananas: The King of all Sexual Fruits.

Women eating banana

Face it, this sucker gets all the women. Its phallic shape makes it the perfect sexually suggestive Musa fruit. Yeah, Musa, even the plant’s genus sounds sexy. And they’re a good source of potassium. No wonder women love them.

So, what about us guys? Don’t we get some sexy fruit?

Okay, melons. I get that.


But seriously, there’s one even sexier than that.

I give you…the navel orange!

Drinking orange fruit

What, you say? No, really, I haven’t left my senses in the bottom of a wine bottle. The navel orange is damn sexy. Stay with me.

First off, it has a navel. Admit it, a woman’s belly button is damn sexy.


But there’s more. Peal back the rind. Start to probe with your fingers, and begin to work it open.


Yeah, that’s it. Slide your thumb between the sections, as you work your way in. Moist, juicy…feel that?

Now, maybe it because I’ve been spending so much time between Amy’s legs lately that I noticed, but God, that’s one sexy fruit.


Ladies, you can keep your potassium, I’m gonna have me some good ol’ vitamin C!


Okay, yesterday sucked. I got next to nothing done, and it looks like I’m not getting anything done today. In any case, it’s going to take me a few more days to get my story out there. But it’s really not my fault.

The evening before, Amy and I had one of those nights. She came over and we talked and shared a bottle of wine. I guess she’s made some good connections and her modeling career is starting to take off. She was in a pretty good mood.

We’re still on a no-strings-attached basis and honestly, she made the first moves, but with a girl this good looking, it doesn’t take much to get my engine revving. She taught me a few moves that I will definitely be using in future stories. She stayed the night, and yesterday morning was just as fantastic.

(Note to self: Buy more condoms)

Anyway, she left about eleven, to get ready for an afternoon shoot, and I settled down in front of my computer to get some work done.

It wasn’t a half hour later, a loud thumping on her door across the hall disturbed my writing.

“Amy, I know you’re in there babe. Open up.” The thick, masculine voice was just slightly slurred. Someone had been drinking before noon, and it wasn’t me.

“Go away, Kevin. Leave me alone.” Amy’s voice was strained. I wondered if this wasn’t the jerk that had hurt her.

“Open up Babe. I just wanna talk.” He pounded once again.

I stood and went to my front door to look through the peephole.

“No you don’t. You’ve been drinking. I can hear it in your voice. Go away!” There was a hint of fear in Amy’s voice.

The guy was big. Broad shoulders and a husky build. I couldn’t see his face, but his dishwater blond hair hung down to the middle of his back. He wore a leather jacket and black jeans.

“Do you want me to break this door down?” The guy shook his fist at the door, and started to size it up. It looked like he was getting ready to hit it with his shoulder.

“Go away, Kevin, or I’m calling the police. I mean it.”

I’d had enough. I yanked open my door to confront him.

“Hey! The lady said, go away!”

He turned toward me and I was a bit taken aback. This guy was classic, romance-cover, beefcake pumped. He wasn‘t wearing a shirt under the leather jacket, and I have to tell you, he was ripped. I’m no slouch, but this guy had to work out for a living. His dark eyes glowered as he spun to face me, and he bared a perfect set of ivory-white teeth as he growled at me. With his long hair, the guy had the whole Fabio thing going for him, and I guessed he was a model, like Amy.

Quite frankly, if I hadn’t hated his guts at that moment, I would have asked him to pose for a cover of a book. Hell, I’d write the story around him, it would probably sell like crazy with him on the cover.

“Stay out of this, idiot, or someone is gonna get hurt.”

Well, he was right about that, but I wasn’t backing down. I folded my arms and stood my ground. “You leaving, or what?”

He started to throw a punch, but I ducked under it, tackling him around the waist and taking him to the hallway floor. He thumped me a couple of times on the back, and rung my bell once with a good shot to my left ear, but I stayed in close, so he couldn’t use the advantage of his larger size and longer reach.

We scuffled for a while, I don’t really know how long. When you’re in the middle of something like that, time kind of suspends. Suddenly some big hands are pulling me off him.

“Break it up!” The hallway is full of uniforms.

I raise my hands and back away, but Kevin takes another poke at me. The cops wrestle him to the ground and cuff him.

Anyway, we spend most of the rest of the day down at the police station. They get my statement and release me, but I stay because Amy looks like hell. There’re cops and lawyers taking to her, something about a restraining order, and I can tell she needs a friend. I put my arm around her and she snuggles in. “I’m so sorry.”

I give her a hug. “I’m just glad I was there.”

Well, by the time we get back to my place, we definitely need more wine. She opens up about this guy, and basically he’s just a jerk. He’d been playing with her affections, cheating on her, and just overall treating her badly. When she broke it off, he went a bit ballistic. It’s no wonder Amy’s not looking for another relationship right now.

She stayed the night, but nothing really happened. It’s not the type of event that leads to epic sex. Still, we snuggled all night, and that feels pretty good sometimes, too.

She just left, and I don’t really feel like working today, so I figure I’ll just update my blog. I’m a little sore, and have some wonderful purpling bruises. It’s a good day to curl up with a good book, and a bottle of wine.