The Autumn Diaries (6 page)

“I can’t get my ass in there,” she said.
 

“Bend over, then,” he said.
 

So she did. As she put her hands on the bed and leaned over a pile of stuff, her boobs nested neatly in an open-topped box filled to the top with porcelain figures. She felt like her tits were being filed for later consideration. Then something big and warm rubbed against her pussy and plunged inside.
 

“It’s like being in an airline bathroom!” he said. “Or a bathroom stall in a public restroom!”
 

It was. It even smelled like one.
 

“What is it with you and bathrooms?” April said. Brian couldn’t hear her because he was making plane noises and had found a small plane in the porcelain figures and was zooming it around. He came all over her pussy and his cum dripped into a box of rags. April cleaned herself up and went to throw the rags out, but he stopped her.
 

Totally serious, Brian asked, “What if I need some spare cum rags?”

Brian didn’t put away dishes. He stacked them in the sink. Sometimes he couldn’t get to the sink, so he put them wherever he could find room. Sometimes he couldn’t find room, so he tossed them over the top of the nearest pile and figured he’d find the plates eventually.
 

April called one of those hoarding reality TV shows. She sent them photos. Nobody responded. She sent emails. Nobody replied. She set her camera up to record her and Brian attempting to have sex standing up between the couch and the TV because he’d brought home five damaged bean bag chairs and they were taking up all of the room and sent that to the reality shows. Someone replied asking for more footage exactly like that, but was vague about coming to film them or get Brian help.
 

After two weeks, Autumn’s bedspace was reduced to a two-foot strip between filing boxes. She could only sleep on her side and suffered from recurring dreams of suffocation. Brian showed up and tried to have sex with her, saying there was plenty of space, shoving the boxes aside to grant enough room to lay April flat. Then he’d start thrusting and things would fall on them. Brian said it was like fucking in a cave.
 

Finally April got a concussion from a new-in-box set of Cuisinart cookware while riding cowgirl and loudly announced she was moving out. Brian seemed sad. Then he asked her for a parting blowjob.
 

April did it from the bathroom sink while Brian hung from the shower curtain rod, but then the rod folded in half and Brian fell onto a used Rock Band drum set, was knocked unconscious, and April had to call 911.
 

“Is that you again, April?” said the voice on the other end of the phone. The operator sighed. Then: “Okay, what’s stuck where?”

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I’M WRITING THE DUMBEST STORY. It’s also awesome. It’s about two paranormal investigators who investigate paranormal sex crimes. I’m thinking I’ll call it “The XXX Files.” Feeling less bummed about my sales and more patient in general because things really are pretty great for how new I am to this, and I’m getting good reviews and even some awesome reader emails. Some of the email is strangely inspiring, or heartening. I’ve had a few women email me and tell me that I’ve saved their marriage. And… great, but isn’t that strange, that the crazy, over-the-top shit I write is saving marriages? I figured I’d save boners and wet snatches.
 

I’m kind of becoming aware that there’s a lot of people out there with a lot of shame around sex, and I think that’s what’s doing it. Maybe my stuff is saving marriages and maybe it’s just saving a little bit of people who suddenly realize that they have permission to like dirty, sexy stuff. It’s okay to like a finger up your ass. It’s okay to want to suck a guy off in a movie theater. It’s okay to want a threesome. Who fucking cares? I wonder if maybe the fact that I’m so off the wall is giving them someone to look at and say, “See? I’m not the only one.”
 

Either way, it’s encouraging. I’d think I’d have to write serious, soul-searching stuff to reach people and “save marriages,” but that’s not the case. I get to have my pussy and eat it too, it seems — I can write crazy, nasty, sometimes funny stuff, and still it helps. And it also gets them of.
 

We’ll see how this XXX Files thing does.
 

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OKAY, I DON’T KNOW IF my XXX Files thing will be popular, but it’s definitely fun. Who doesn’t want to laugh about a drug that makes guys cum like fire hoses? Well, okay, maybe not my mom. But she’s not really my target market.
 

It’s all made me realize something: I don’t need to write sex. I can write whatever I want and then ADD sex.
 

Or I can just write sex.

Speaking of sex, I sucked Sam off in the car today. He didn’t want me to do it. He was all, “We’re going to get in a crash, Autumn!” He’s so funny. He then tried to act like he wasn’t into it because he knew that if he was into it, I’d do it whether his brain wanted to do it or not. So all the while he’s protesting, his cock head just keeps getting bigger and redder and seeping more pre-cum, and I’m just slurping it up, and he’s like, “I DON’T WANT YOU TO SUCK MY DICK IN THE CAR WHILE IT’S RAINING AND SLIPPERY AND THERE ARE TWO CARS OF OLD MEN WATCHING US.”
 

I’m like, “Prove it” while squeezing his dick and rubbing that little nub just below the head on the underside. I gave it a lick and pulled up my skirt and shoved my fingers into my pussy. So he gets all serious and I see his lips moving and I realize he’s trying to think about baseball. Like a big cliche. So I’m like, “You’re up to bat, and you swing, and the ball goes into the outfield, and then I turn around and back into you and shove your dick up my ass.”
 

Just like that he shoots this massive surprise load into my mouth. I wasn’t ready for it, so it went up into my sinuses. I laughed and it shot back out of my nose. Holy shit did that hurt.

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I’VE GOTTEN ALL OF THESE little story paragraphs that don’t go anywhere yet but that I don’t want to lose, so I’m going to stick them in here so I don’t lose them.
 

NOTE TO SELF: CHANGE NAMES. It’s easier to write them as they happened, but some of these guys might get pissed.
 

NOTE TO SELF: Why do I care if they get pissed? WTF?

+++

The one with the dick so huge even Autumn couldn't swallow the whole thing
 

Autumn goes to a bar with her friends and there’s this hot hot HOT (!!) black guy there and the whole time, her friends are rubbing the guy’s abs, first through his shirt and then under his shirt. They’re all OOH and AAH and Autumn, being Autumn, is like, “Yeah, but is your body as good where it counts most?”
 

Her friends are all aghast and shocked but the guy is like, “I’ve got ten inches.” Autumn is like, “BULL-SHIT.” He says, “Once you go black, you never go back” and Autumn says that’s just a cliche, but secretly she’s getting all wet thinking about some chocolate thunder between her thighs and wondering if what he says is true — though of course it can’t really be ten inches. But it could be big, and it’s sure to be beautiful.

So the guy says, “I’ll show you. And then he whips it out to the grand merriment of Autumn and her friends. Dude invites them all to touch it. Nobody does, except Autumn, under the table. Then they all do. Dude invites them to his place. It’s late, but Autumn enjoys a challenge. On the drive, the guy says it gets bigger when it’s hard, and that a real man measures limp. So he’s promising like a foot, foot and a half.

They get to the guy’s place and he pulls all his shit off and stands there and he’s like a black Michelangelo’s David with three legs. Then he gets it hard and Autumn is almost fucking him from clear across the room. So she drops to her knees, totally sopping wet, and takes it in, but she can only get halfway down before gagging.
 

So she’s thinking, Motherfucker, I am AUTUMN FUCKING COLE and I won’t be defeated by Cockzilla, so she tries again. This time she gets it further down, but she can feel it tucking her uvula aside and she almost barfs. So she tries again, but this time she stops halfway and, curious, grabs a compact from her purse. She opens the mirror and watches herself try again. She makes it three quarters down and sees in the mirror that there’s a bulge halfway down her throat like a snake swallowing prey. Her mouth is stretched so tight around his girth that she’s sure she’ll need the jaws of life.
 

Then the dude just suddenly cums down her throat from all the attention, and though it surprises she just takes it all, then folds up shop and goes home defeated. Dude puts his hands on his hips like the Green Giant and declares himself the champion of the world.
 

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The one with the Indian guy who claimed his grandfather wrote the Kama Sutra

Autumn, because she’s a total slut and proud of it, is in a Hill of Beans reading a 1970’s photo essay version of the Kama Sutra that shows this Ron Jeremy looking guy with a giant mustache and a headband fucking this woman with an enormous bush in like a million and three positions. Autumn is taking notes. One of the notes is, ‘Shave bush.” This Indian guy with a super-thick accent comes up to her and says, “You know, my grandfather wrote that.”
 

Autumn looks up and he’s pretty hot, though she’s going to have to force herself to not listen to him because his accent is so thick. She says that he’s full of shit and the guy says, “A thousand pardons but it is totally true.” Autumn starts to suspect that he’s putting on the accent to seem more authentic, but she doesn’t call him on it. He’s got this giant bulge in his pants and she wants at it. So she’s like, “Prove it” and they go back to his place.
 

The guy’s apartment is not spiritual or ethnic at all. He’s got a caucasian roommate who is all fat and gross and who keeps asking him if he’s down for some Frisbee. The Indian guy tells him, “I am with a company right now, so I have time for none of your American games.” Roommate gives him a WTF face. Indian guy says he’ll buy him a pizza if he fucks off, but he says it all Indian-like.
 

They go into the guy’s room, and there are posters for Pearl Jam and shit on the walls and he’s got this double-poster from the Fight Club movie that says, “I want you to hit me as hard as you can.” He scavenges in a drawer and finds one old incense stick. He doesn’t have a holder, so he wedges it between two books on his shelf and then starts praising Autumn’s body by talking about her spirit and shit. Then he tells her to get naked — for spiritual reasons — and to take his vishnu into her prajna. They’re not even real words. At some point he says “punjabi” but he uses it like a euphemism, requesting that she give him a “poon jobby.”
 

They fuck in like seventy positions, each stupider than the last. Autumn finds it strangely hot because the guy is still sexy as hell and he’s putting his dick everywhere in her. She cums like five times by accident and the guy is like, “See? Ancient Hindu technique!” Then he blows a wad in her hair and tells her it’s an old-world conditioning secret and tries to sell her on a daily dose, which he could deliver at her leisure.
 

In the end she calls him on his bullshit, but he won’t own it and so she pretends to believe his protests. They work out a plan to make their own photo version because that Ron Jeremy and Super Bush shit is just sad.
 

+++

NOTE: I just realized that we never did make that photo book, which sucks because although the guy
was
talking out his ass, he was really hot and I think he lucked into some really super positions. That one where our legs made like a pretzel and he put a dildo in my ass while we balanced upside-down on our hands had me cumming like crazy until we both fell.
 

I want to remember to try it with Sam. Maybe he’d make the photo book with me.

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FINISHED WITH
THE XXX FILES!
Brooke came over today and I told her about it. She claimed, after reading it, to have been abducted by aliens and probed for hour and hours and hours. She said it was awesome and that I really should try it. I asked her how one went about being abducted by aliens. She told me about this lettuce-picking operation in New Mexico and told me that if I went down there during pretty much any shift and waited until the supervisor went on break, it’d happen.
 

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ABOUT TO RELEASE
THE XXX Files.
I feel like I’ve written about it a lot here so I won’t go on and on, but I do want to say that WOW, this shit is FUN. And fun DOES matter. I can force myself to write stuff, but it’s best when it’s fun. Or hot.
 

Oh, who am I kidding? None of this is forced. I’ve done most of this stuff myself, and the only really different thing with
XXX Files
is that I’m totally making 100% of it up. I don’t even have the normal limitations that come with writing about real people.
 

Also: Should it bother me that my real-life friends actually aren’t much more outrageous than this alien-fucking stuff?

I’ve been reading more and more about how to market myself and my books. Just a few sparks at this point, but the sparks are definitely exciting. I’ve found more good advice not just on writing, but on selling books, and specifically how to build a mailing list and GIVE to people in order to GET. This is a bit of an epiphany, but more and more it fits with that whole confusion I mentioned about how it could possibly be a good idea to give books away for free in order to sell them. It’s all about lead-generation. And attention begets attention, because as more and more people READ my stories (whether they paid for them or not), I guess the way it works is that my stuff starts showing up in those things on Amazon where “Customers who bought this also bought this.” So someone is an erotica reader and they like whatever and they ALSO like me, then people who read the whatever will start to see my stuff when they go looking for the whatever, and they maybe decide to pick up a Lexi story and try it.