Heather and Jim.

There’s a young couple that lives just two apartments down from mine. I’ve only run into them a couple of times in the hallways, so I don’t know them very well. But lately I’m getting to know them really well.

sexy couple

Most of the other people in the apartments around me are older and a bit more settled, but these two…well, the hormones are raging. They spend a good deal of the time they’re home together in bed.


How do I know this?


Well, it seems as my mind adjusts to the drugs that are turning me into a Psylon, it’s really easy to pick up on the thoughts of people generating a lot of sexual energy, and get drawn into their heads. And seriously, these two go at it a lot.


It’s not like I’m a voyeur, well maybe it’s exactly like that, but it’s nothing I can help. It’s all part of this change that hopefully I’ll learn to control better soon. In the mean time, it’s completely distracting, and makes me horny as hell, but on the plus side they sometimes give me some great inspiration for my writing. They can be quite adventurous in their lovemaking.


So I’ve started writing again. Hopefully I’ll have something soon. Another short story, maybe even a novella. I’ve got to find a use for all this inspiration.


Their lives otherwise, are a bit mundane, so I’ll have to create a little fiction, if I ever want to use these scenes, but that’s kind of what I set out to do, before my life got so off course. Maybe I’ll try my hand at a made up story for a change. But the sex scenes, yeah, those will be real. I couldn’t invent better than Heather and Jim.


God, I hope Angel stops by tonight.

Gossip - woman with finger over lips



Answers – Part 2


Paul Fredericks had just dropped a bombshell on me.

“Last January, right before we wiped the memories of the other Points Club members, eight of you agreed to move to the new Psylon headquarters, and undergo a new, experimental process, that would turn you into Psylons.”

I racked my brain for any memory and came up short. “Why don’t I remember?”

Paul sighed. “There were some complications. You and a couple of the others started having seizures and psychotic episodes. We think it was because of an allergic reaction to one of the drugs, none of the others had any problems at all. You had to be restrained and sedated for quite a while. You were in a lot of pain, which we found out later, was caused by being in close proximity to the other Psylons, both old and new. So I sent you here to recover.”

I nodded, but I wasn’t about to let him off the hook. He hadn’t answered my question. “So, why don’t I remember?”

“Even after we got you back here, you couldn’t adjust. You had nightmares whenever you tried to sleep. You were a mess. So we decided to block the memories . . . let you ease back into normal life before we broke the news. Your memories will return over time, hopefully at a pace you can handle them.”

“Great, I was crazy. Am I still crazy?”

Paul smiled, and let me rant for a bit, then said, “Relax, Marc, you’ll be fine. All of the others are recovering nicely as well, but your Psylon powers are starting to manifest, and so is the hunger. That’s why we had to send Angel to you a couple of times over the past two weeks.”

“Her name is Angel?” Because yeah, no way I’d forget her.
Beautiful woman and glamour city night lights
“We’re working on things,” Paul continued. “Give us some time and just know your brain is still adjusting. New powers may come upon you suddenly, to be on guard.”


Something came to me then, as if I’d known how to do it all along. I just thought real hard toward Dr. Paul, without saying anything.

Like talking to you in your head?

Paul smiled and nodded. “Yeah, like that.”



Answers at last.

“How are you doing, Marc?”

I was surprised as hell when I opened my apartment door to find Dr. Paul Fredericks standing there.
Paul Fredericks

“Dr. Paul. Come in, come in.” If anyone had some answers for me it would be Paul. “You do remember me, right? And Points Club?”

I held my breath. Over the past week I’d encountered some of the Points Club members in town. When I said “Hi” and asked them what they were doing they looked at me like I was crazy—like they didn’t know me.

“Yeah, Marc, I remember it all,” he said. “I meant to be here before this. We had an emergency at the Psylon base, and I just couldn’t make it until now.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. I’ve been starting to think I was crazy. That I’d imagined my whole life.

He came in and I got us both a cup of coffee. He did a quick medical checkup on me as he launched into an incredible story.

“Points Club, while real enough, was really all an illusion created to help the Psylons. It allowed Psylons the consistent sex they need to live, without endangering the local populations, and provided a wide range of sexual situations to sate the Psylon hungers.”

It turns out that, while most Points Club members believed the club to be decades old, it was actually created only a few years ago, by Psylons changing people’s memories, to provide for their needs. Paul assured me they chose only those who would not be harmed in the long run. Now that the Psylons had found a new base, and were coming together and able to satisfy their own sexual needs, Points Clubs were being disbanded and most of the members were having their old memories restored, and all memory of the club wiped.

“Most?” I asked, curious about the others.

“A second reason behind the Points Club experiment, was to find the next generation of Psylons,” Paul explained. “We accepted a few, already accustomed to an overly sexual lifestyle, who volunteered to undergo a new Psylon process we’ve been working on.”

He paused, then added, “People like you.”

Oh yeah, there’s more…lots more. I need to wrap my head around it before I put it in this blog, but it’s coming.



Stay tuned.

Honey Moon Night

I felt the orgasmic wave cascade over Heather’s body as Jim plunged to the depths again and again. I could also feel his mounting release. It was as if I was experiencing both people from the inside, feeling everything they were feeling.

Heather and Jim are a young couple that live in the apartment two doors down from mine. I don’t know them well. They moved in during my ‘dead’ times. My confusion was sublimated by a voyeuristic curiosity. Why was I seeing them make love from inside their heads?

I woke sweat drenched and horny as hell. The dream had been strange enough, but the pain I was feeling in my lower regions was beyond anything I’d ever felt. A growling need, like hunger but centered below the stomach.

“We thought you might be affected by the Honey Moon.”

Her voice was familiar. My mysterious visitor from about a week ago was back. Her sleek, sexy lines were drenched in the pale moonlight that filtered through my bedroom window.

Gossip - woman with finger over lips
“I’m feeling the effects as well.” Wan light illuminated her bare breasts, nipples pebbled hard in arousal. “I need you as much as you need me right now.”

She slid into my bed and took me to heaven, again and again until, exhausted, I fell back to sleep.

When I woke this morning, she was gone.

I found this story on the Honey Moon last night: http://sploid.gizmodo.com/no-human-has-seen-tonights-honey-moon-in-almost-100-yea-1590096626/+kushkush

I’m still confused as to why it affected me like that. Then again, it could all have been a dream. In any case, the pain is gone.

The first day of my life.

In the confusion I’m feeling, I’ve found it somewhat comforting to say “Fuck it!” and just do some internet surfing, pushing all the doubts and confusion to the back of my mind for a bit.


This morning I stumbled upon this, and it spoke to me:


I remember when I started all this a year and a half ago: https://marcstevenserotica.wordpress.com/2013/01/12/sex-happens/

I left everything behind to start fresh. Well maybe this isn’t so bad, having lost everything once again. Maybe I need to look at this as a new start. The points Club era is over, it appears. It was fun, but things changed . . . I changed.


As Yogi Berra said, “When you come to a fork in the road . . . take it.”

So, this is the first day of my life. Look for a few changes, and some new directions.


The strange gets stranger.

So the other day I get a knock on my apartment door. I answer and Maya Taylor’s standing there, hands full of papers and her laptop.

“Hi Maya,” I said. “How have you been?”

“Since last week?” she answers. “Fine.”

She pushes her way into the room and drops her stuff on the kitchen table.

Turning to confront me she continues. “Question is how have you been? Last week at our regular meeting I barely recognized you. It’s like you weren’t even here. And that’s not the first time. You’ve been getting stranger and stranger over the past few months. I decided it was time to confront you. What the hell is going on?”

I decided I’d better come clean. This is one person I trust. One person who actually knows me.

“To tell you the truth, I have no idea. I don’t remember last week . . . Hell, I don’t remember last month.”

She crosses her arms and taps her foot. “So you haven’t even looked at the edits.”


She points to the stack of papers on the table. “Our book . . . remember?”

It turns out we’ve been getting together weekly over the past six months, and the book is coming together nicely. Things I don’t even remember writing. Maya was patient with me, showing me the things we’d done, explaining some of the changes that needed to be made to tighten up the story.

We worked for three hours straight.

As she was preparing to leave she confronted me. “I can see you’re going through some shit that you don’t want to discuss with me. I’m good with that. But, promise me you’ll get something done on this by next week.”

I told her I would. It will be nice to have something to concentrate on while I’m trying to figure out what’s going on with my lost memories.

“By the way,” I ask as I’m seeing her to the door. “When did they close the North Point Supper Club?”

“That old place?” She asks, cocking her head. “It’s been closed for years.”

painted door
God, I feel like Rip Van Winkle.

Yours for tonight.

I’m still not convinced it wasn’t a dream, but even after waking this morning it all feels so real.

After a frustrating day of trying to find someone . . . anyone . . . who knew me in town, I gave up and went to bed. I lay there for hours in the dark, my mind not letting me sleep. Then I felt it. A change in the darkness, a lightly floral fragrance wafting through the room.

“Stop beating yourself up,” a soft feminine voice said.

I sat up in bed. “Who’s there?”

The lighting in the room brightened slowly to a dim glow, all on its own. In the doorway stood a woman, beautiful and completely naked. I wasn’t sure if I should scream or smile.

Gossip - woman with finger over lips

“Shhh . . .” She brought her finger to her mouth. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

My body reacted to the attractive way her breasts raised with each breath she took. “Do I know you?”

My brain still felt Swiss-cheesed, with no memory of the past six months, and plenty of holes going back much further.

“We met a little over a year ago, when you came out to visit our base.” Her silky tones were soothing, and I started to relax, but my rod continued to stand at full attention. This woman was hot.

I’m a Psylon.

The phrase echoed through my mind. It was the same voice, but her lips never moved. It was as if she spoke to me inside my head.

What the hell was a Psylon?

Looking back now, I see I once knew, and even wrote a blog about them here: https://marcstevenserotica.wordpress.com/2013/03/25/enter-the-psylons/

But last night I couldn’t remember anything about them.

“Don’t worry. Your memories will return in time. You’re still healing from the procedure, and right now you need me as much as I need you.” Her hips swung invitingly as she walked to the side of the bed. She leaned down and brought her lips to mine.

As our tongues tangled in a delightful dance, she slid between the sheets, reaching down to grasp my shaft.

She broke the kiss, leaving my head swimming in erotic delirium.

“I’m yours for tonight.”

If it was a dream, it was a very wet one.