M is for Maya

The main room of the North Point Supper Club is a lonely place after 6:00pm. Most of the regulars are in the back setting up encounters or getting laid. Last night it was just Maya and me.

Maya’s the bartender that takes over when Harvey slips into his cowboy boots and assless chaps to host the Points Club meetings.

MA Taylor

Jet black hair and dark sultry eyes with flecks of blue and green that draw you like steel to a magnet. But the landscape doesn’t stop there. She has a small piercing on her cute button nose that will occasionally catch the dim light in the bar and draw your attention to the bangles hanging from her multi-pierced ears. She has quite a collection of earrings. Last night it was hoops and skulls. She looked daring, dangerous and damned sexy.

My mouth went dry just looking at her. Exotic…enticing. I decided there were advantages to not being the first one in the back rooms when the door opened.


“Do you have a good Zinfandel?” I thought something on the sweet side would go well with the exotic flavors Maya presented. My mind was drifting and so were my eyes, as they took in the tops of her perfect, palm-sized breasts and the intricate, colorful tattoos that ran down both arms.

“How come you’re not in the back rooms with the others, Marc?” Her eyes sparkled as she pursed her lips, the sides of her mouth drawing up in a mischievous grin.

I had to pull my thought away from her. This was business, and all I could think about was pleasure. “I’m waiting for someone.”

Tonight I was meeting another author here, the one who would help me write the Psylon’s story. Dr. Paul set it up. M. A. Taylor, the erotica author. I’d never meet her before, didn’t even know what she looked like.

“Maybe she’s already here.” Maya winked and slid a business card across the bar counter.


“You?” I couldn’t believe it.

“The M is for Maya.”

She showed me an old laptop sitting on a desk at the side of the bar.

Laptop On Table

“It gets lonely out here at night,” she looked off toward the back room, “and I certainly get a lot of erotic inspiration. I can only imagine what goes on back there…but I have a very vivid imagination.”

I could just picture her fingers rippling over the keyboard…okay, I was picturing her fingers rippling over my body, but it’s almost the same thing. I knew I had to steel my resolve. If we were going to be working together, sex could really get in the way.

“I went over the notes Dr. Fredericks sent me. Here’s what I’ve got so far and I have an idea.” She handed me a folder. “You write from Nick’s perspective, and I’ll write from Perla’s. We can get a true male/female viewpoint. Let’s go back and forth, chapter for chapter, and see what we can pound out.”

Yeah, pounding something out sounded like a great idea right about then.

She laughed. “God, Marc, I’m not a Psylon, but it doesn’t take much to read your mind right now.”

She leaned over the bar and brought her lips to mine. Her tongue pried my lips apart and teased my cock even harder.

“Okay,” I said gasping for air. “But we need to keep this professional.”

Her eyes sparkled. That mischievous grin was back. “Well, professionally, we may have to work our way through some of those sex scenes together.”

“Yeah,” I smiled, “there is that.”


Mind Games

As I stated before, I was blindfolded and ear muffed as I left the private jet. Dr. Paul assured me I was in no danger and it was specifically for my own protection. I took a long drive in a car then was led into a cool, slightly dank feeling chamber. When I could see and hear again, I found myself in a large windowless compound.

As I was led down a hallway I saw a few other people. Most appeared to be in their upper twenties and in good physical shape. From behind closed doorways I could hear the sounds of moaning and bodies slapping together.

Urban girl

“Oh God! I can just smell the sex,” Chastity proclaimed and dashed off.

Dr. Paul just grinned. “I knew bringing her along would be good for her. Maybe I’ll get a full night’s sleep when we get home.”

He took me to a small meeting room.

“Seeing as how you have a natural mental shield, and there’s no way to mind-wipe you, I’ve decided to put you to use,” he said as we sat down at a conference table. “I figure what works for Points Club should work for the Psylons. We can hide them in plain sight, as a fiction.”

“You want me to write about people with mental powers?” I had to admit, it would be great story material.

“Mental powers and overactive libidos,” he added. “It should fit right in with your erotica ambitions and if something the Psylons do leaks out into the mainstream media, we can treat it as a publicity stunt. Everyone wins.”

Young fellow in the tattooings

I really like this idea.

Then he introduced me to them. “Marc, this is Perla Ferrara.”

The raven haired, green-eyed beauty was exotic and captivating. “Nice to meet you, Marc.”

I had to remember to breath.

“Yeah, she has that effect on me too.” I hadn’t even noticed the tall, imposing figure standing protectively behind the woman. There was a growl in his voice, but he smiled and held out his hand. “I’m Nick Salvitore.”

I spent three days with Perla and Nick, taking notes as they related their story to me. By the end my head was spinning. God, what a project. Up to this point I’d only written short stories. This was a novel.

“Don’t worry,” Dr. Paul said patting me on the shoulder. “We got you some help.” He handed me a business card.


“I know her. She posts comments on my blog. Hell, she inspired my last story.” I was amazed.

“Yeah,” Dr. Paul smiles. “She’s been following you, and we’ve been following her. Of course she won’t believe it’s all true. Just share the story and let her help you write it up.”

So it appears I’ve got a writing partner.

Enter the Psylons

A little history:

Right after 9/11, the U. S. Government had an excess of funds for military research. Pretty much anything the Pentagon wanted, they got. One nameless general decided it was time to pull the old psychic research project out of mothballs.

One hundred young people, fifty men and fifty women, between the ages of eighteen and twenty-one were selected for the Psylon Project. All had rated high on tests of intuition, ESP, empathy, and mental stability.


A regimen of training, drug therapies and testing opened up the minds of these incredible young people to powers never seen before. Scientists conjectured that the powers lay dormant in most humans, but were a part of the mind rarely accessed because of the brain’s structure.

The test subject’s training also included physical fitness, weapons and military intelligence. From this group an elite force was drawn for special black ops training.


But something went wrong.

The drugs that opened their minds also enhanced the libidos of these young people, particularly affecting the amygdala and lateral orbitofrontal cortex. A hunger—a craving for sex—developed in each of them over time much greater than the standard sex drive of a young adult. A pull to engage in intercourse that could not be denied, getting stronger until the ‘hunger’ was satisfied, with dire side effects if denied for even a short time.


The research facility turned into an orgy of sexual activity. Scientists tried everything they could to suppress the hunger. A psychologist and sexual research expert, Dr. Paul Fredericks, was brought in to head the crisis team.

Drugs, therapy, suppression…nothing worked. Prostitutes, both female and male, were bused in to help stabilize the compound as erotic tension threatened to boil over, but a worried senator in Washington decided it would be better to scrub the project and expunge the record.

Now the Psylons are among us, cast out and hungry for sex. Spread out across the country, many have discovered the Points Club as a way to satisfy their sexual needs. Still other Psylons have gathered back together for mutual protection and carnal gratification at a hidden base. It was to this secret compound I was taken from the plane, blindfolded and earmuffed.

In my next post: More about the Psylons and my huge, new writing adventure.

Jet Lag and the Mile High Club.

Okay, I’m back and suffering some really crazy jet lag. There’s a ton to tell, but I’ve really got to get some sleep. So here’s the first part of the travel story. I’ll cover more in my next post.

Red and White Jet

Dr. Fredericks drives me to the airport. There on the runway is a small private jet waiting for us.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve invited a friend along,” he says.

He takes me on board the plane and to my surprise, Chastity is waiting for us.

Urban girl

We take off and we no sooner get the “You may now walk about the cabin” notification from the cockpit and Chastity is all over me.

“Come on Mark. Time to join the Mile High Club.”

“Seriously,” I insist, “I can’t. Remember the Points Club Rules. I can’t have sex with someone who’s not in the club.”

She gives me that fake frownie face. “Don’t you want me?”

God did I want her! My cock was rock hard and begging to be set free to ‘fly the friendly skies.’

“Yes,” I had to admit, “I want you.”

“Good!” She’s all bubbly smiles and squirming in my lap. “Paul can recertify you for the club when we get back.”

I look at Dr. Frederick and I raise an eyebrow.

He nods. “Yup. No problem. Just two easy tests that you’ll pass with flying colors.” He looks at Chastity with chagrin showing on his face. “Because I know where she’s been.”

Chastity already has my shirt unbuttoned and her lips are weaving their magic way down my chest.

“Also,” Dr. Fredericks adds with a chuckle, “if you don’t do it, I’ll have to.”

She’s already unzipping my pants and sucking suggestively on one of my nipples, but she comes up for air. “Oh no, Paul, you’re not getting out of it that easy. I want you both before we touch down. In fact I want you both at the same time.”

Dr. Fredericks shrugs and rolls his eyes. “She’s got this ménage fantasy.”


Someday, maybe, I’ll write up the story of what (who?) went down over a mile up in the sky that day. Needless to say, Dr. Frederick and I both earned our wings, and a permanent place in the Mile High Club.

Seems like I just keep joining sex clubs.

That’s all for now. I need to get some serious shut-eye, then get all my notes together. You won’t believe what I found when we touched down.

Sex Therapy and an Unexpected Journey

It turns out that Points Club has its own psychologist. I introduced Dr. Paul Fredericks in my short story, Whipped Cream and other Delights, but I never actually met the man before today.

Paul Fredericks

After you’ve had a few encounters, Points Club sends you around to see Dr. Paul. It’s important to the club that they accept only the right kind of people, people who can handle the no-strings-attached, friends with benefits situation.

Dr. Paul put me through an ink blot test, and talked to me about the club and what was expected. He delved a bit into my background and my relationship with HIM. He seemed satisfied.

“You’re kind of a special case for Points Club,” he told me. “I think it’s going to be important for members to be able to tell someone their stories, someone other than me that is.”

Points Club members were allowed to share their encounters with Dr. Paul so he could help them through any problems. So it turned out we had that in common.

“There is one little issue we need to clear up though,” Dr. Paul said and he buzzes his secretary on the office phone. “Send him in.”

Well, it felt like my jaw dropped to the floor when the guy walked in.

Young fellow in the tattooings

“Marc, this is Adam,” Dr. Paul said.

“Yeah,” I answered, “We met…at the hospital.”

Adam seemed friendly enough. He held out his hand and I shook it. But his face remained stern and serious. “That’s the problem, Marc. You weren’t supposed to remember that.”

He looked me in the eye and it felt as if my mind was being stripped naked. For long moments we just stood there. I couldn’t look away.

Finally Adam sighed and I felt released. “It’s no good Doc. He’s got a natural shield I can’t get around.”

“Well,” Dr. Paul said, “then there’s nothing else to do.”

He turned to me. “Marc, go pack for a week-long trip. You are about to meet some pretty amazing people.”

And that was that. I’m home packing now and just had time for a quick blog post. Dr. Paul said I’d be out of communication for a week or so, but when I returned I’d have a shit-ton of new stories to tell. I couldn’t really refuse. Not that I don’t have stories piling up on my laptop already.

Oh well. With luck I’ll see you all in a week or so.

Whipped Cream and other Delights

I put it in last night, and it just came up…

Okay, I know what that sounds like. What I mean is, I loaded my new short story, Whipped Cream and other Delights to Amazon last night, and it just came up for sale.

So without further ado:

Whipped Cream Cover

Buy it here: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00BQPJFJK


Something is eating erotica author, Marc Stevens…actually someone is eating erotica author Marc Stevens.

A sexy comment on his popular blog has Marc testing the limits of tasty treats and sexual experience and the best place to test both is at the North Point Supper Club.

Vickie thinks Marc looks good enough to eat, and is willing to put her kitchen talents and libido on the line.

She will reinvent the banana split and he will toss a mean fruit salad, in this sexy, fun gastronomic delight.

4,500 sexy words.


A special “Thank You” to M. A Taylor for the story idea. M.A. has already received her free copy. Turns out she’s a new erotica writer herself. Check out her blog at: http://mataylorerotica.wordpress.com/


And yup, in this story I used my actual name, instead of inventing one. I thought ‘what the heck. It’s me.’ From now on if I appear in the story I will be myself…does that make sense????

Wait, are you still here reading???

Go back up, click on the book cover, and buy it for crying out loud.

Sexy Fruit (Part 2)

Some of you probably remember this post from about a month and a half ago: https://marcstevenserotica.wordpress.com/2013/01/20/sexy-fruit/

Well, here we go again…

I had a deliciously awesome night at Points Club last night. Vickie was on-board with the food based fantasy so I stopped by the North Point Supper Club to talk with Harvey and see if there was a room available. Turned out he’d been anticipating it, and had something all set up if I wanted it. I messaged Vickie then headed out for the grocery store.

It’s amazing what you can find, when you’re in the proper frame of mind:


Vickie was anxious to get at it, so we agreed to start right when Points club opened at 6:00pm. I spent most of the afternoon setting everything up. It was a truly unique experience for me, if somewhat messy. Vickie recreated the banana split (without even using a banana).


After she’d had her fill, I tossed a pretty mean fruit salad.


The entire event turned out to be a lot sexier than I thought it would be, and a lot of fun. I’ve thrown all my writing projects to the side, and am hard at work on bringing you the whole delicious story.

I just finished the cover:

Whipped Cream Cover

And I plan to have the story available very, very soon.

By the way, Amy came over and after reading my rough draft, slipped out to buy some groceries, then presented me with the above pictures based on the story. I’m not going to say they’re completely accurate, but she did manage to capture the spirit of the story.

Thanks, Amy!