C.E. Hoffman’s “Sluts and Whores” Slated for Release

Past contributor C.E. Hoffman, who penned Bloom (Blowjobs) is set to release her collection of short stories February 14, 2021! Go to her website for more information. Here is an interview with the author: PL: Please start by telling us a little about yourself and how you began as an artist. C.E. Hoffman: I’ve felt

bathhouse [poem] by Jack Henry

it’s an exchange of glancesgestures and smiles to communicatedesire, lust, need; it’s our code of conduct,a secret language;i understand implicitly,when he looks at me; i obey,completely; without careful consideration,momentary reflection,i make my way to him;the room dark, air heavy;the smell of masculinityand desperation mixes withstrange fragrances of spiceand jasmine; and the soundsof fucking; we kiss

Love 1 [Poem] by Frederick Foote

I love the golden enchanted forest between your legsMy intrepid tongue, my greedy lips explorer for the hidden oreYou sigh, grow wet, creamy, explode in sweet delightsYou pull my head roughly into your gushing vaginaI grab your ass pulling you tighter to me forming an unbreakable sealLater, I lick your hairy bush, your sticky thighs

Besties [Poem] by David Sprehe

sometimes i play and think about you you quiver my shiver is never good as yours 😦 i penetrate myself with thoughts of you i groan, stuffed, my tongue in your pubes our nipples touch your finger in my cunny juicy my panties you fuck my ass choke me shuddering semen rolling in pulses down

Happy Holidays from Pink Litter!

We’ve been “virtually” silent these last few months but we’ve rededicated ourselves to the task and the honor it is to bring you the best “stuff”…whatever that happens to be. We have a great stockpile of writing that we’re working on getting out. So, we appreciate your continued interest and wish you all the best

Julie’s God and Other Poems by Dustin King

Click here to read on Issuu

Squirt [Story] by Kristan X

I am fucking her from behind when she squirts for the first time. Just a little spurt. She contorts, curves her back. Reaches back to put a hand on my hip. Grips my skin and, with a shudder, releases. The liquid is surprisingly hot. A warm spray of it, direct and close into my thighs

Mango Woman [Poem] by Noel Negele

Mango Woman Last time I heardbeach bar waitersand bartenderswere pulling her out of the watersnaked, in a manic state,her gorgeous pale skinbare against the blue light of the full moonand, against her will, were dressing her with their own clothesbecause her lips had turned blueand because, as they said:“We have sisters ourselves…daughters…” Manic-depressive, mad-crazy, gorgeous