Broads via – Guernica / A Magazine for Art & Politics

Jimmy long ago decided his hands were the bane of his existence. Women like Marissa coo and fuss over them; they yearn for Jimmy’s lovely hands to toy with their tender bits. Marissa’s favorite thing was for Jimmy to lie next to her in bed, gently sucking one nipple while he stroked her clit with his middle finger in small, fast circles until the pleasure was so sharp and intense that it hurt. She couldn’t get enough of Jimmy’s middle finger until, of course, she met someone who was happy to take Jimmy’s place.

Roxane Gray prepares us for the “EROTICA” issue tomorrow: Jimmy Nolan would like to think he is the kind of guy broads go for…His problem, however, is that he models himself after caricatures of who he thinks broads like. And, unfortunately for Jimmy, he’s a nice guy.


Via The Weight of Rose Petals – Guernica / A Magazine for Art & Politics 

When the priest told him to kiss the bride, he’d slipped her the tongue. She bit down then, hard enough that the beer he had at the reception burned in the marks. 

 

To put you in the mood for Guernica’s upcoming Erotica issue, read our fall installment of erotic fiction: Roxane Gay chose Brad Green’s “The Weight of Rose Petals,” in which Frank has suffered a nearly insurmountable loss, and is waiting out his infirm and bitter wife, while longing for the woman he truly loves. 

Every minute or so, he’d squeeze it and hold the squeeze, like he was trying to send some secret code through our hands, his pulses reminding me of just a few minutes before, when I’d felt that same kind of throb up in me—that sudden fullness meaning I needed, quick, to slide off and get out of the way. I thought I could sense what Omar was thinking. I worry now that he somehow knew that would be the last time it would be easy between us.
Magic City Relic, A novel excerpt by Jennine Capó Crucet, guest-edited by Roxane Gay - Guernica / A Magazine of Art & Politics

Source: guernicamag.com

(via Café Flesh by Ruben Quesada, guest-edited by Roxane Gay - Guernica / A Magazine of Art & Politics) The only pictures my family owned were those taken during holidays, birthdays, or family vacations. Moments worth saving were photographed. But I’d never imagined anyone would want their picture taken for strangers to see.  Read more Guernica fiction
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(via Café Flesh by Ruben Quesada, guest-edited by Roxane Gay - Guernica / A Magazine of Art & Politics)

The only pictures my family owned were those taken during holidays, birthdays, or family vacations. Moments worth saving were photographed. But I’d never imagined anyone would want their picture taken for strangers to see. 

Read more Guernica fiction

Source: guernicamag.com

Six feet tall and arms like bundled wire. He go strutting the length of the house. Bottle cap pried up with his long bad teeth, spitting tin and blood in the trashcan and turning to put that sweet mouth on me, saying, Heart, come closer. Come here. Loving in your wolfish, in your wicked.
How I Gonna Bare My Neck Outside in the Sweat-Scared Morning by Delaney Nolan, guest-edited by Roxane Gay - Guernica / A Magazine of Art & Politics

Source: guernicamag.com

(via The Weight of Rose Petals by Brad Green, guest-edited by Roxane Gay - Guernica / A Magazine of Art & Politics) Winona eyed Frank down the long black barrels of the shotgun. She complained again about that whore he’d visited every Wednesday for fourteen years, before he lost his manhood in the accident at the rebar factory. She prattled on about the woman who sweetened her privates with rose petals and brought shame to the house of the properly wed while her breath leaked from her throat like a slow eel. Read more Guernica fiction
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(via The Weight of Rose Petals by Brad Green, guest-edited by Roxane Gay - Guernica / A Magazine of Art & Politics)

Winona eyed Frank down the long black barrels of the shotgun. She complained again about that whore he’d visited every Wednesday for fourteen years, before he lost his manhood in the accident at the rebar factory. She prattled on about the woman who sweetened her privates with rose petals and brought shame to the house of the properly wed while her breath leaked from her throat like a slow eel.

Read more Guernica fiction

Source: guernicamag.com

(via Magic City Relic, A novel excerpt by Jennine Capó Crucet, guest-edited by Roxane Gay - Guernica / A Magazine of Art & Politics) I can admit this, though: In between those squeezes, the weird smell of bleach and musk surrounding us, a balled up baby wipe in each of our free hands, I really thought that we’d stay together. That we wouldn’t break up the way my school counselor, a sad woman I’d only talked to twice who otherwise never weighed in on anything, told me we inevitably would.  Read more Guernica fiction
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(via Magic City Relic, A novel excerpt by Jennine Capó Crucet, guest-edited by Roxane Gay - Guernica / A Magazine of Art & Politics)

I can admit this, though: In between those squeezes, the weird smell of bleach and musk surrounding us, a balled up baby wipe in each of our free hands, I really thought that we’d stay together. That we wouldn’t break up the way my school counselor, a sad woman I’d only talked to twice who otherwise never weighed in on anything, told me we inevitably would. 

Read more Guernica fiction

Source: guernicamag.com

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