August 24th, 2011 → 11:50 pm @ Dallas Black
No, I didn’t plan on spending my 28th birthday this way however shit happens. It was definitely not a bad situation but not the start I had planned. She was dead sleep with her boney torso pinning my arm which was now completely numb. I weighed the pain of the numbness versus waking her up and instead just laid there staring at her matted black hair. My head began to rock like a children’s ride at a parking lot carnival and I closed my eyes hoping it would stop. It didn’t. The alcohol had come home to roost. She rustled and my eyes popped open to see a surprised, scared, elated 30-year-old girl staring back at me. She clutched my 1200 thread count sheets to her bosom hoping she still had some ounce of dignity. She didn’t. As if on cue my Blackberry rang and sounded like a gong in my ear. I rolled over like a super cat to silence it. “12 missed calls” it read. I scooted up against the headboard and sat up in amazement; partially at myself and partially at this entire situation. “So…hey” I mumbled through dry lips trying to defuse the awkward silence. “Hey to yourself” she replied from her parched throat. “Wow, ummm, where is my bra” she asked while rummaging around the bed clenching the sheets shielding herself. My left eye couldn’t help but peruse her body as she searched. I was reminded of what I saw last night at the bar.
August 5th, 2011 → 8:12 pm @ Dallas Black
Sitting in a hard black lacquered chair in the lobby, The Savoy Hotel went about its normal Tuesday business. My legs crossed, baby blue cashmere socks on display, my fingertips played against French copper nail heads as I waited patiently. The hotel offered a $34.99 lunch special to its guests featuring their signature dry aged steak, gulf crab stuffed shrimp complete with asparagus tips atop a shredded cabbage salad. Although appetizing, it wasn’t the meal I was anxious to feast upon.
As my foot tapped an invisible rhythm the maître de stood at his post wondering why I was sitting in the lobby and not queuing up for lunch as I did every Tuesday. He nodded to me confirming he was ready when I was ready; ready to escort me to my table. My table sat directly across from the kitchen facing 66th avenue. It was my favorite table.
The heavy hotel doors swung open and I fought the natural urge to break my neck to see if my lunch date had arrived. I stared out of my right peripheral to see an old Jewish couple lugging their luggage towards the front desk. The bellboy scurried behind them offering his assistance. His help was rebuked even though the couple clearly needed it. I glanced down casually at my timepiece to see it was 11:43AM. The email I received from her this very morning with no message, only the subject read “Savoy, 11:40AM, Lunch”. I had stirred with excitement reading the message from bed on my phone just 5 hours earlier.
July 22nd, 2011 → 9:49 pm @ Dallas Black
Author Dallas Black introduces his collection of fictional short stories published from the perspective of the modern, urban, cultured man. 10 Erotic: Book 1 is Dallas Black’s first formal foray into erotica and includes 10 short stories and 10 poems. Each erotic story is followed by an erotic poem. Dallas seeks to paint images with his words and often writes his prose with eyes closed, trying to capture scenes and vibes. Stories such as “Organic Chicken” and “Fucking Jocelyn’s Mother” attempt to avoid the obvious while providing detailed images and vivid, erotic thoughts. Any writer can tell you a story, but only an artist can paint you a picture, using his vocabulary as his medium. Dallas Black invites you to explore 10 Erotic: Book 1, and ultimately yourself.
Available now!
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Blog of Author Dallas Black &Flash Fiction &Poetry &Short Story
